


Youngblood

by blueaurora



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blowjobs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Mild Angst, Slow Burn, They're all theatre kids, and more - Freeform, fuck buddies woohwa, handjobs, im not good at this pls don't come for my ass, irritating boi san, lots of misunderstandings, lots of rude kissing, making out too, minjoong aka mingi and hongjoong, rude boi seonghwa, san and seonghwa hate each other, yunsan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2020-09-27 08:34:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 71,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20404783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueaurora/pseuds/blueaurora
Summary: There's nothing San hates more than the way Seonghwa walks like the world is his own runway. Well, maybe the fact that they have to kiss four times a week for the next three months is about to top that.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> ooooooh man I've been thinking about this idea since yeosang said san and seonghwa are the scariest members of the group when they get mad and finally got the inspiration to write it
> 
> basically, san and seonghwa hiding the sexual tension between them under a hate relationship, beautiful
> 
> this is my first chaptered fic here and I am egg sited to share it, I don't know how is this gonna go (praying the inspiration god doesn't decide to abandon me) and I can't promise daily updates but if you love it and leave kudos I will get hyped to write more!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! (and please be aware that there's gonna be mentions of sex and all that because college is wild)
> 
> now with an incredible [moodboard](https://twitter.com/bubblesani/status/1215350566752260097)!

San hates Seonghwa.

It's nothing personal — not at all, because it wasn't his intention to hate him on the first place. San always considered himself a chill person, a little bit lazy to care about what others say about him, a lot bit of a jerk to get his head out of his own ass as Wooyoung likes to say — and fuck you Wooyoung because the king of jerks is not other but Park Seonghwa itself.

But San is nice — he is super nice, the nicest college boy in that messed up campus — and everyone knows it. Being sincere, he lacks a little bit of empathy and has a bag full of sarcastic replies just in case, but nice after all.  
He likes to help in the shelter every Saturday and even bought Yunho a little cacti for his birthday (and he named it Sani because, again, San is so nice).

He can say with his nose pointing the sky he is the perfect boy and not, as Seonghwa claims, an annoying piece of ass good for nothing. Mingi always tells him to bite his tongue and don't reply back, but can he blame him? After all, is Seonghwa the one that's always starting the fights.

And for what?  
Because San is a star, that's why.

Aside from being such an amazing guy, San is also a rising star in the acting world. He was, as he likes to claim on family gatherings every time he has the chance, born with a crown on his head.  
On his first year on college, it took the theatre club less than an hour to acknowledge his talent and only a few weeks after that, the main character role was his. Easy, piece of cake, he is both nice and talented — he might want to add how handsome he is, but prefers to let that to his little (big) fangirl club.

To say he knows how good of an actor he is can be a little be too narcissistic, but he really is. Wooyoung knows it, Yunho knows it, even their leader, Hongjoong knows it. San fiercely believes Seonghwa knows it too, but the older boy is way too pissed he lost his star nickname after San came into the picture to just admit it.

(But San knows it, and maybe his chest gets all hot and bubbles pop on the back of his tongue every time he says his lines and Seonghwa clicks his own in discomfort, gives sarcastic claps at the end of every rehearsal or just gifts him his good morning smirks).

Seonghwa is so hard to deal with. Out of all the actors on the college's company, Seonghwa is one of the best. Oh, man, okay he is actually the number one. Played Juliet on their very first play, rocking the makeup like no one could, getting an incredible recognition both as an actor and as a gender role breaking king, and Captain Hook in one of their last ones, astounding everyone with such a perfect personification of a villian. Seonghwa is also so cool, but maybe he is a little bit — definitely a big of a jealous dude. Because he really was the number one, until San wrote his name down the inscription list at the start of last year.

It's only San's second year there and he already won the hearts of half campus. He believes both of them deserve the title of the star actually — wow, he is such a kind-hearted boy — yet Seonghwa is not so fond of accepting it. Jealous bitch.

For that, San hates Seonghwa and the way he walks like the world is his personal runway. He is majoring in business and shares his apartment with Mingi — so yeah, San is conscious of how he has some cleaning obsession. Hongjoong assures he is like a mom, always buying them coffee and even babying the hell out of Yeosang. And San? He only gets death glares and occasional punches that San is nothing but glad to give back.

San only wants to get one of the chocolate cupcakes Seonghwa bakes on Sundays, the ones Wooyoung is always bragging about knowing San wants nothing more than having that chocolate on his tongue or crash one of them on Seonghwa's face for being such an ass. Of course, he also wants to be friends with Seonghwa. Maybe. Okay, it's not a secret San was the one that put tabasco on Seonghwa's lunch that one time, and yeah, he wasn't scared at all of mocking him in front of everyone, obviously refusing to use honorifics — it makes him sleep well at night seeing how Seonghwa gatters all his strength to just not punch him on the chest.

But Hongjoong is so tired of having to deal with them every single day and it makes San a little scared to piss off Hongjoong — he might be small but he got a temper, he just has to ask Mingi and how he got scolded for three whole hours after pranking Yeosang about how he was kicked out of the company for bringing his princess Mayu at one of the rehearsals (Yeosang didn't think at all though, because everyone there loves that small cat, Hongjoong being also the president of his own fan club).

Truthfully, San only started doing it because the summer festival is around the corner and with that, the famous summer play the company always make. It's the biggest event they get to participate because it's not only the students the ones watching them, is an open festival so everyone who happens to hear about it can appear and discover next Leonardo Dicaprio (no joke, San is a big fan). They're making an original play, one of Hongjoong's works, and it's not a thrill to say all of them are excited about it.

Of course, San can't miss his chance of being the main character because of Seonghwa. His future is more important than the cupcakes of one jealous dude (even though Jongho cried about how tasty they are).

And most importantly, he hopes Yunho gets the main character as well. Because — oh, how much San loved Hongjoong — it was the first play including an LGBT topic, with a beautiful coming of age story and a make out session. Okay maybe it is only a kiss, but a kiss after all. And he really wants Jeong Yunho, cacti owner and starlight eyes, to be the one accompanying him.

Park Seonghwa and his dark glasses, walking into the room like there's thousands of cameras outside, won't ruin his plans today. He got more patient that Wooyoung — walking just after Seonghwa a few seconds after, horrible smug smile tingling on his face — thinks he has.  
His friend throws his whole body on the chair next to him, sighing and stretching. It's not bothersome enough for San to look up from the script — he has been four hours reading how Noah, the character he wants to be, cups Jesse's face and kisses him into the infinity, being Jesse the character Yunho needs to be and into the infinity being just the final kiss after a lot of hardships.  
He still gets giggly at the thought of kissing Yunho.

It started as a crush, that quickly moved into the I bought you a cacti phase and keep on growing to the point of dreaming of holding his hand. San never felt that soft for someone, and really needs that kiss to finally confess to him because, well he is nice, talented, handsome and smart but he is also, as Yeosang loves to say, a wuss. Or maybe it's Yunho's aura that intimidates him. Totally nothing to do with the boy self proclaiming himself everyone's boyfriend.

Why everyone when he can be San's?

"What are you doing, super star?" So Wooyoung decides to interrupt him, arm around his shoulder and nose annoyingly popping in front of him. San narrows his eyes in a leave me alone way, but Wooyoung tries again, wiggling an eyebrow at him. It's obvious Wooyoung wants to talk, yet San doesn't want to hear it — not when it only takes one second for his gaze to float around the uncovered skin of his neck, where hickeys are slowly blooming out of the honey of his skin like little spring flowers. He gets goosebumps.

"Now, getting grossed out internally," San shakes his head, closing the script that rest now on his lap, protected by his restless fingers. "Thinking of a way of poking my own eyes without pain."

Wooyoung laughs, hitting his back with more strength he thought, body bouncing to one side. San replies back with a kick on the ankle.

"What now?" The boy scoffs, body slamming to him again. "I thought you liked Hongjoong's play."

"First of all, I love this masterpiece," he says, voice highlighting the word love in the air. "Second of all, you are the one grossing me out, Jung Wooyoung," the boy tilts his head, acting all confused and shit, but San knows he is not making up all that, he is just naturally dumb. The first time he hooked up with Seonghwa, it took San two seconds to understand it because Wooyoung isn't smart enough to wait five goddamn minutes to exit the dressing room. It didn't end there because it's been like three months and Wooyoung still puts on that face every time he let's Seonghwa undress him: like he has some magic fingers or something, San doesn't need all the details (he doesn't need any details at all, but Wooyoung always comes at him even though he has Yeosang waiting for him on the stage, painting the scenarios).

"What?" Wooyoung's voice sounds soft again, just as if he wasn't moaning into Seonghwa's skin just a couple minutes ago.

"Idiot," San sighs, standing up because he had enough of weird images on his brain, but of course Wooyoung follows him. "Your sin is showing," he points at his neck, Wooyoung finally getting the hint, hand flying to the spot and covering the bruise, not even thinking, just knowing the perfect position of where he had a mouth sucking in.

San keeps on moving until he reaches the vending machine. He positionates the script in between his legs as he searches for his wallet. Wooyoung and Seonghwa are friends with benefits, or that's what he wants to believe because even though Wooyoung is irritating and is used to tease him every single day, San learned to love him. Dating Seonghwa is the same as punching him on the stomach, so he hopes for the best and that Wooyoung hadn't caught feelings yet.

Mingi fiercely believes they're only releasing some college stress — apparently Seonghwa has tons of that because Wooyoung always ends up covered in love bruises. Neck, chest, arms and, holy shit, San had to witness some on the inner side of his thigh due to Wooyoung's habit of walking around on his underwear. San wants to believe the same.

"It's not a sin," Wooyoung is pouting. San is too focused on what to choose to look at him but he just knows, is a pouty voice. "You being a wimp and refusing to ask your crush to give you head doesn't make it a sin. It's just sex San, and we are adults. It is really that bad?"

He uses his pinky to press number 45, choosing honey coated peanuts and ignoring Wooyoung. First, he is not a wimp, he is just waiting for the perfect moment as in he is such a romantic boy. Second, no one has any idea he has been crushing on Yunho for months and it's not going to change for at least the next three months. Third, sex is good but haven't they tried honey coated peanuts?

(Fourth, thinking of having sex with Seonghwa makes him uneasy).

"Oh, yeah, sex is amazing," San opens the bag, offering him some ones (again, how nice). "But I don't really need to know how," he stops to mimic a gag instead of saying the actual name, "fucks you on the dressing room. Why don't you tell Yeosang? He is your best friend."

Wooyoung frowns but takes a few more peanuts. They stop right in front of the stage where, speaking of the king of Rome, Yeosang looks up and smiles at them. Mingi is also there, supposedly to help him with the painting shift — the whole company played paper-rock-scissors to choose the order, ridiculous, yet San managed to get himself the fourth turn together with Wooyoung, Yeri and Ryujin. Yeosang's team is third turn still the only one doing the actual work is Yeosang. Mingi is way too focused on his phone, there's no sign of Jisung and Seonghwa just arrived. There's only ten minutes left until they change shifts.

"Yeosang is a baby, I can't tell him."

San narrows his eyes at him, visibly attacked. "I am a baby too."

"San, you're 20."

"Yeosang is one month older than me," he whispers, not wanting the other boy to actually catch their conversation. "And for real, I don't want nor need to know it, okay?"

Wooyoung presses his lips together, munching on the peanuts for a few seconds. They all see how Seonghwa exists the dressing room, no glasses on sight, and joins his team on the painting. For ten minutes, incredible.  
There's a brief second where Seonghwa raises his head and just locks gazes with San. Like all his features, Seonghwa's eyes are strong, cold, it makes his feel so unprotected. It makes San think about how attractive he is.

Yet it only takes him a second to smirk, stick his tongue out and show his middle finger in his direction. Not so subtle at all. San feel all his blood boil.

"Okay," Wooyoung ends up saying, patting his shoulder. "But we didn't do it on the dressing room today. It was on the bathroom, with all of the mirrors."

San doesn't doubts on hitting him with the script, peanuts falling all around him as he forgets he still is holding the bag.  
All eyes are on them — Wooyoung's laugh is fucking loud — even Seonghwa's.

San doesn't care about the peanuts because he suddenly lost all his appetite.

―

The thing is, San has been thinking, as he paints the sand from scenario number four — there's a scene when the group of friends goes to the beach, typical, but a little bit special because it's at night and there's dim lights, the moon reflection on the water and lots of secrets being shared —, he doesn't actually know how his first interaction with Seonghwa was.

Not at all.

He remembers doing the auditions on the same day as Mingi, Wooyoung, Yeosang and, of course, Yunho. They were so nervous because they knew about the existence of Park Seonghwa and how he would be sitting front row, watching every detail, every single movement — and also every single mistake. They were but San was relaxed. He knew he was just as good as Seonghwa being that what boomed his confidence to the point of getting Hongjoong to drop jaws right in front of him.

For Seonghwa, he doesn't even remember how he reacted.

The thing is, at first Seonghwa wasn't actually on San's mind. Of course, he knew about him, about how good of an actor he was for being just a college student, but nothing more. He wasn't obsessed with him like Wooyoung and never really spend a whole afternoon talking about how handsome he was (both Wooyoung and Yeosang did).

It was pretty calm for the first weeks, until Seonghwa started to mess with him out of nowhere and San decided he hated him. Almost like he blossomed in San's life slowly, being unnoticed until it was too late to go back — not in a good way, although it sounded like the start of a beautiful story written by someone angsty, like John Green.  
In his defense, it was Seonghwa the one who started it all. Out of the blue, without even exchange of words — not that San remembers.

Maybe he was a little bit obsessed with San.

"I'm totally sure Seonghwa is going to get Noah."

The brush falls from San's fingers as he moves his head to find Mingi's gaze. The boy hasn't moved at all, still sitting on the stage with them — and occasionally messing with Wooyoung.

"They're both confident and sarcastic," he keeps on saying, shrugging, "it's like the role was made for him."

San focuses on the sand again.

"Well, the writer is Hongjoong, I bet he made every role thinking of someone," next to him, Ryujin points her brush to Mingi, getting a positive nod before she moves her hand to San, almost staining his nose in baby blue. "Bet Noah is for you."

He can't help but get a little happy with that comment, end of his lips curving upward in a smug smile. It's obvious Noah is his role and not Seonghwa — he is, if he has to think of someone, Jamie, because he is the rudest character Hongjoong could think of.

"You know, because he is way smaller than Jesse," Ryujin adds boosting San's confidence. Everyone laughs around them, and it really isn't something that bothers him — Wooyoung is his height and Hongjoong is even smaller — until Seonghwa's laughter can be heard.

He is sitting on the front row, playing with his phone but obviously paying attention to their conversation. San bites his tongue and keeps on painting. They talk for a couple minutes more — about how Wooyoung is perfect for the role of Jesse and San wants to cry — before Hongjoong appears with the final list.

San's heart starts pounding inside his chest. He has been waiting for weeks.

"San," Hongjoong calls him first, all eyes falling on his shaky body. It makes him even more nervous, even when is just the role of a play, when his mother thinks this is only one of his hobbies, it means a lot for San. He can feel Seonghwa's eyes on him, cold like ice. "You are Noah."

Yes.

His smile glows on his face in a matter of seconds, clapping sound filling the small room. It was obvious, he was made for that role.  
Wooyoung doesn't doubt on hugging him, Yeosang jumping around him like an excited kid.

Yunho is on the other side of the room, giving him a thumbs up. He needs to get the role, he really needs Yunho to be the one Hongjoong calls out next.

"And for Jesse," San gulps, feeling his body tense. "Seonghwa, is yours."

Fuck you Hongjoong.

Claps fill the room again in a way that wants to make believe everyone is happy to get the news, yet San can't neither hear it nor feel happy at all. He feels a little bit dizzy, legs trembling like jelly.

Seonghwa is staring at him, for the first time since he knows him, without a smirk on his face. San doesn't miss the way Hongjoong is looking at him from across the room, smug grin already appearing on his lips.

Great. They did actually get Hongjoong mad.

―

"I'm not kissing you," his voice sounds even louder than the locker's door banging close. His fingers feel the vibration crawling all over his body, not strong enough to shake him the same way as Seonghwa's eyes on him.

They're alone on the dressing room, after patiently waiting one hour for everyone to leave to go class, knowing Seonghwa would stay the last as he isn't also precisely pleased with the recent news.

It's a romantic play, Noah and Jesse have to share not one but multiple kisses. Hongjoong really is a vengeful person, San needs to learn how to bite his tongue.

He is pressing his lips in a thin line, jaw tightly clenched, one hand over Seonghwa's locker. And the boy is standing still in front of him, ice falling from his eyes piercing him. And he is scared, oh boy San wasn't that scared since he moved from his mom's house and had to start living by his own. His lips tremble as he gathers the little strength he has remained to speak. "I'm talking with Hongjoong. There's no way in the world I am kissing you."

Seonghwa rolls his eyes as a reply, moving back to take a seat on one of the chairs he is sure he disrespected with Wooyoung at least once. San stays next to the lockers, watching how the older boy remains serene and incredibly calm for the first time of his life — not gonna lie, it makes San even more furious that he isn't screaming or fighting or trying to punch Hongjoong to put Wooyoung on San's place.

"And you call yourself an actor?" Are Seonghwa's words, one eyebrow up. His voice is filled with mockery.

"What?"

"Listen, San," he starts, putting on a smirk, "we are actors. When we are on the stage, we are no longer us but the characters we interpret. Caught it?."

Actually, he is right. San gets even more irritated at how truthful Seonghwa is right now — such a professional or just an idiot wanting to get on his nerves, San isn't sure if he is one or the other or even both at the same time; a professional idiot with a high ego.  
Still, he is saying nothing but a true. They are actors, that's what actors do. He had to kiss Wooyoung once and nothing happened because they weren't San and Wooyoung that time.

Kissing Seonghwa, yet, is one of the most difficult things Hongjoong has asked him. "If you are gonna chicken out, maybe you can tell Joong you are not made for this role, Wooyoung will do it perfectly."

With a scoff, is San the one rolling out his eyes now. Wooyoung and Yunho are the main substitutes.  
Now it makes sense, why he is so calm, so sure San wouldn't contain himself.

So he takes an air mouthful and fills his lungs. He hates Seonghwa but Seonghwa hates him back. It's obvious, everyone on the company can see how they can't stay on the same room for more than five minutes and that their group of friend is kinda split because they share all of them but it's impossible to arrange a meeting without fighting.

They were never compatible, and Hongjoong always made the most for them to play roles that hadn't any interaction. Until today.

Seonghwa is looking at him, not moving at all. There's something weird about how calm he is, making San clench his fists on his back as he reaches his position, standing in front of him.  
San is the one looking down at Seonghwa then.

"I know what you're trying to do," he mumbles, dry, nails scratching his skin because he is so mad. At how Seonghwa is blatantly looking at him like he is part of some game for him, and maybe at how strong his eyebrows are right now. "It's no use, I'm not gonna give up."

San is strong, another quality to add to his list. Stubborn is his second name, the idea of losing had always driving him crazy. Maybe that's the reason he is such a good actor: he doesn't give up, if he wants something, he fights until he gets it. Although he doesn't want to kiss Seonghwa in front of hundred of persons, his desire off pissing him off might be stronger.

It would be easy, to get Seonghwa out of the frame even though he is acting all smugly right now, considering how he has been riling him up for over two years. Getting Seonghwa mad is effortless due to his short temper — and San will take advantage of that.

Or that's what he wants to think.

Seonghwa stands up, winning height again. Yet, San doesn't even flinch. They stare at each other for a whole second before the older puts a hand on his chin, lifting it. That's what San likes to call, the start of the end.  
The touch is velvety, he never thought his hands would be that soft, not on his skin.

He does get scared a little when Seonghwa leans in, noses bumping together. Too close. "Three months are long enough," he whispers, breath tickling his lips. San's body shakes, warmth biting his lips. His skin itches and for a solid second, his mind goes numb. There's a buzz on his ears, and a small voice telling him to move one step closer, making their lips crash in a wet kiss — he is sure is Wooyoung's voice.

"Should we practice the kiss scene?" The vibrations come back, this time on his lips, making San yank over of his reverie and hiss loudly.  
Not in a million years.

His hands crash on Seonghwa's chest, pushing him aside. There it is again, that smile. Like he had already won a game they hadn't started yet.  
San bites his lower lip, mint scent already all over his skin. He feels like punching him, more than usual.

Seonghwa chuckles, arms crossed as he leans in over the wall. "I'm gonna win this one, babe. I'm still the star here."

Voice filled with acid, half joking half throwing a warning at him. San is furious.

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in. He gets mint and dust, and a little bit of the mix of cologne of all the boys that changed before them. Strong. When he opens his eyes again, Seonghwa is walking to his locker, opening again.

San points a finger at him. "If you kiss me, I will bite you."

Out of all the things he could have said, he chooses the worst play of words as Seonghwa's body shakes with laughter. He didn't think of it, he is mad, not to talk about how the boy just pressed his ambitious button to the maximum.

Seonghwa doesn't even look up from his locker when he speaks. "Is that a warning or a promise?"

With nothing more but a growl, San exits the dressing room, heavy steps rumbling on the big stage. What an idiot, Park Seonghwa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am bubblesani on twitter!!


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's me again ignoring my two (2) ongoing aus to write this
> 
> this chapter might be boring or confusing or both but it needs to be here for several reasons (call it filler call it building up to sumn) either way I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> and thank you so much for leaving kudos and comments, it made me so happy! <3 <3 <3

One of the things San hates the most about living with Wooyoung is how he never does the dishes.

Growing up with his grandma, San is more than used to wash the dishes right after finishing eating. It's easier to get rid of the grease and, above all, they share such a small apartment that can quickly get impregnated with the smell of the food remaining on the kitchen sink. Wooyoung, nonetheless, is such a lazy ass that totally prefers to use the _Sani will do it_ card instead of actually cleaning — he knows San can't go to sleep if there's still something on the sink.

His habit of walking around on his underwear is also a little bit annoying. At first, San ignored it — as a man on his early twenties, he perfectly knows the annoyance of wearing clothes around the apartment where no one can't actually see them, plus it's also his house so can he really blame him? — but then Yunho decided to pay them a visit on the middle of the afternoon just to be received by Wooyoung only on his favorite pink boxers, boner on sight (who the fuck watches porn at 5 pm!?). That was totally a reason to ask him to buy a pair of pants.

Aside from that — and his loud alarm at 6 AM — Wooyoung is such a nice roommate to share his life with. San has time for himself because he likes to spend a lot of time on his room (hmm) or just watching movies on the living room, and as Wooyoung has super early morning classes, the shower is always free for him to use when he wakes up (around 8 AM).

He waits outside the bathtub until the water gets warm enough — it doesn't matter the time of the year, Choi San needs to shower with hot water first in the morning to have a good day. He tried it in high school before his debut as the libero of the volleyball team and ended up being the ace for a year before he broke his wrist (and the day that happened, it was because he skipped shower). It's not a secret San fiercely believes in fate, morning rituals and comeuppance.

He likes to say things are written on the stars even when Mingi claims he smokes too much weed — he doesn't, but maybe Mingi isn't telling them everything that's happening on his life. Anyway, San has to shower first in the morning in a very hot water to rock his day.

Even when he is still sleepy — eyes closed and that heavy feeling pressing hard his chest — he manages to undress slowly, soft skin under his fingernails. The steam quickly fills their small bathroom, signal to just enter the tub and let the water kiss his back. 

He lets the water fall over his face for a couple seconds, reaching out then for the lavender soap Yeosang gifted them at the end of the semester. Wooyoung is not a big fan of flower scents so that's a nice thing because they're San's favorite. He allows himself to sigh, small moan leaving his lips as the hot water wakes every cell of his body. It feels so nice. 

The room is filled with hot steam and lavender scent when the curtain is abruptly yanked off, San feeling the cold air threading over his limbs before even knowing what is happening. His whole body tenses, feet slipping and almost making him fall. 

"Wow," San moves quickly, fingers flying to the curtain to cover up his naked body. Wet hair is over his eyes, blocking the sight. Yet he knows who's the owner of that voice, and it's totally not Wooyoung's. "Well, this is nice." 

San pulls his hair up, closing the tap just to get a full sight of Park Seonghwa on nothing but a white plain shirt standing in the middle of his bathroom. Messy hair and a hickey on his collarbone where the shirt is slowly falling. Even when San is the only one naked, he can't help but think on the amount of skin Seonghwa is showing right now. Full legs, neck, collarbones. 

"What the fuck are you doing on my bathroom?" The way his voice breaks is enough to make Seonghwa snap back into reality, finally looking at him on the eye, chuckling. 

San knows what he's doing. Of course he knows it. There's no other reason why Seonghwa would be on his apartment at 8 AM with no pants if it's not because Wooyoung disrespected their home again. Maybe there's another thing San hates about Wooyoung: he is literally fucking around with Seonghwa on his apartment. 

"Peeing." 

"No shit Sherlock," San hisses at him, snapping his fingers when the curtains get way too pressed to his body, Seonghwa's eyes slowly moving down. "Hey! I mean, why did you pulled the curtain? Are you crazy?" 

Seonghwa tilts his head back, rolling his eyes again — San swears on his grandma, never before in his life a single movement pissed him so much as the way Seonghwa rolls his eyes every time they have a conversation (at least, that doesn't happen on a daily basis). He crosses his arms as San moves the curtain, feeling way too exposed — one of his shoulders plus all his body line, perfectly detailed thanks to the way the curtain molds to his hips and waist. 

Not even with Wooyoung he feels at ease being naked — or half naked —, not to say with Seonghwa of all of them. 

"In my defense, I thought it was Wooyoung the one showering," Seonghwa excuses with a shrug, moving to the sink and picking Wooyoung's toothbrush to brush his own teeth. San is both grossed out and starting to get real cold.

"Wooyoung's classes start at eight, you idiot." 

Seonghwa stares at him through the mirror, raising an eyebrow as the toothpaste drips from the corner of his mouth. "I was sleepy and confused. I know what you are thinking but please don't get your hopes high, you're not even my type. I don't like annoying." 

San barely understands him, closing the curtains again and clenching his jaw. Water drops are falling from the tip of his hairs, chattering teeth. He crosses his arms, rubbing his skin with shaky fingers as the hot steam already dispelled thanks to Seonghwa's dumb ass. He hears how the tap opens and closes, sound of gargling and heavy steps. _Is he finally gone? _He thinks, scared to pop his head out of the curtain again. 

For some reason, San feels pissed off again. His relationship with Seonghwa never was good, but it was always San the one getting on his nerves. He knows how to mess with Seonghwa just fine, but maybe he hasn't been the same since the notice of the play's roles came out. It has been eating him alive for a whole week, breaking all his walls down with just a pair of words. 

If someone was annoying, that was Seonghwa. 

"You're gonna get cold, sweetie," Seonghwa's voice sounds again, face popping inside the bathtub for a brief second, fingers opening the tap so the hot water starts flowing again. Yet San is able to catch a glimpse of his smirk after checking him out. 

One thing is sure after that: Park Seonghwa just ruined his morning routine.

And he never felt so vulnerable in front of him. 

—

"Keep your boyfriend out of the apartment," Wooyoung looks at him intrigued, half sandwich still on his hands. Lunch time is always on the same cafeteria near the dance building as half of them are potential dancers, making it a bother as it takes San years to move from the teaching building to their table, always arriving with half the food gone. "He entered the bathroom without asking while I was showering." 

Is a warning. Or he tries it to be, lowering his voice and frowning at him, ignoring the rest of their friends sitting on that table.

With a growl, he takes a sit in front of Yunho who has already finished his food and is enjoying a YouTube video on Yeosang's phone. Wooyoung munches for a little more before looking at him. "He is not my boyfriend." 

The blush on Wooyoung's cheeks isn't specially a _we are just friends_ blush but San decides to keep his lips pressed and open the salad he just bought on his way to the table. 

"We are just having some fun, and I think it's my apartment too," he points without even looking up. "Let's just put on a latch." 

"The latch is not the question, dude, it's my own privacy." 

They talked about that one day, first time they hooked up and San asked _why, just why_, being the answer much more detailed that San expected.

On the apartment rules they have written down lot of things — and most of them are practically ignored by Wooyoung like the dishes or the _Wooyoung please put on some pants my mom is arriving in ten minutes_ — being one of them to not talk about Seonghwa never again. 

Wooyoung asked why he hated him so much and San gave him a one hour long lecture about how Seonghwa's way of breathing is so annoying. However denying his entry, even when finding Seonghwa on the kitchen on his underwear on a lazy Saturday morning wasn't specially a good way of starting the day, wasn't written down. He can't just do that, Wooyoung owns half of the apartment — and if they split it down Wooyoung is getting the bathroom, he hates Seonghwa but not to the point of losing his bathroom. 

San said he was just invading his privacy and Wooyoung just rolled his eyes telling him to get laid already because he was starting to get _real _annoying. 

"Why don't you just go to his house?" San voice floats around, a little bit strong. 

"Oh, no, I have a signed contract," is Mingi the one speaking from his spot right next to Yeosang. He points at San with one of his bread sticks. "Hearing a single moan from Wooyoung equals to free meals for a month and we all know how Wooyoung is a loud bitch and Seonghwa is stingy stingy." 

"Hey!" Wooyoung frowns. 

"Okay," San nods, "then you have to do my laundry every time you bring him to our apartment." 

They all hear how Wooyoung immediately whines — yeah, Wooyoung is _fucking _loud —, Yunho finally lying his eyes on him. He is wearing baby blue and messy hair over his eyes. Yunho pouts at him, maybe melting San's heart. He is less mad now. 

"That's unfair! We've been fucking for two months, why are you acting like this all of sudden?" Wooyoung frowns again. 

To be true, it always bothered him but he was nice and polite, hating Seonghwa had nothing to do with his friends. Yet their first rehearsal is tomorrow and he can't get the idea of getting Seonghwa's lips on his own out of his head — totally not in a good way. Mayhaps he is starting to get more and more _and more_ annoyed by Seonghwa. 

"Because he saw me naked!" It's a fair point. He is the only one who doesn't take off his shirt when they go to the pool and is still scandalized by Yeosang's pink shorts — really _shorts._

His cheeks flush as all eyes on the table fall on him. Maybe he has been speaking way too loud. He is too embarrassed Seonghwa, out of all of them, was the first one seeing him naked he doesn't even notice how he walks to the table. "C'mon _baby_, stop being so narcissistic. Already forgot how you look under that ugly sweater." 

First of all, his sweater is the cutest, black, with rainbows on his sleeves. Like screaming he is both gay and emo (which he is). 

Second, it's Seonghwa, of course. Wearing his hair down and not makeup at all, usual sunglasses resting on his head. Same white shirt San saw on the bathroom and the heavy smell of Wooyoung's cologne filling his nostrils.

Apparently he had no time to go home and change before classes started. Already at that phase? 

San wrinkles his nose as the older sits next to Wooyoung 

They don't exchange nothing but a soft nod even though they have matching hickies blooming on their necks — and the fact everyone knows about what they do when they think no one is watching (Jongho saw them once, when he arrived earlier than he needed to the rehearsal). 

"I'll see you later," San decides he doesn't want to fight, standing up with his salad perfectly still. He isn't hungry anymore and due his morning routine was interrupted, he doesn't want to test his luck nor to talk about his naked body — Yeosang stopped looking his phone to give him that look and San is not in the mood for that.

Wooyoung calls him back but San is already by the trash can. _Fuck him and his latch. _

"San," is Yunho the one calling, surprising him because _Why is Yunho here._ San blinks, looking up and feeling content at the heart. "Are you okay?"

He frowns then, confused. "What?" 

"I just realized we haven't talked about the play at all," Yunho confesses, apologising smile on his lips. It takes San a second to understand, Yunho's eyes slightly moving back to where Seonghwa is messing with Mingi. "If you are having problems, you can talk with me. I know you are an amazing actor, Sani, and you will do amazing. But I also know how Seonghwa-hyung can be sometimes."

More like _how can he be always. _

"It's okay, Yun. Thanks." 

Yunho hums, gaze glued to him and how he has been playing with his fingers since the beginning due that weird feeling people go through when having a crush: butterflies on the stomach, sweaty hands, abnormal heart rate and uncontrollable smiling.

"Okay," Yunho's voice is as sweet as the blue of his hair, matching the one of his shirt and maybe the one of the sky. He waves his hand goodbye and San decides to buy chocolate on the vending machine before leaving.

—

First rehearsal is torture.

Hongjoong wants to do a group reading first, not acting, just pointing the things everyone needs to remember for each scene — like Yeosang, who plays as the cheerful leader of the association, Mingi, that needs to be extra serious because he plays as a boy still in the closet or San who needs to be extra cocky because Noah doesn't precisely likes Jesse at first. Totally an easy thing, just acting like always.

It's _supposed _to be easy. But there's a kiss scene way too soon and San wants to die at how Seonghwa has been applying lip balm right in front of him. 

It's obvious Hongjoong is enjoying things way too much when he doesn't make Mingi repeat his last scene so they can move into the kiss one. They're sitting on the prop bed — situation: they're left alone on Noah's room after one of their meetings, Jesse stays because he wants to apologise for a fight they had on the first scene. Or, just an excuse for them to kiss.

Seonghwa's leg is bouncing, maybe a little bit nervous, way too close for comfort. Did San mention it was real torture? 

"Okay, Seonghwa you have to lean in and-" 

"I know how to kiss, Hongjoong," he sighs, throwing his head back before staring at San. He is supposed to look at his side but he can't help but freeze. The way he just said _kiss_ makes him shiver. Okay, so he is nervous. 

Mouth dry and shaky hands, everyone is looking at them. It never bothered him, he loved to be on the spotlight, until now. He wants to run away — punch Seonghwa's smirk first — and hide under his bed. 

"San," Hongjoong's voice makes him snap back into reality, heart throbbing on his ears. "You're supposed to look at your hands." 

_Okay,_ he thinks, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. _You can do it._

They start over again, saying the lines that lead to the kiss. San is looking to the ground as Seonghwa crawls into the bed, stopping just a few centimetres away. The smell of cologne is strong again, slowly numbing him. 

"Look at me, Noah," Seonghwa says his lines, fingers crawling on his thigh.

San gulps. "No," his voice sounds muffled, no need to act at all because he doesn't want to look at Seonghwa. He thought he was a good actor, that he was born to shine in everything he did, but maybe he was wrong. There's no way he kisses Seonghwa and makes it out alive. 

His stomach clenches as he feels a hand under his chin, moving his head to one side — harder than it was necessary —, gaze falling onto Seonghwa's face. He is serious, lips parted, cold dark eyes not leaving him. "C'mon," he whispers, almost as if he isn't acting at all.

San is split in half.

There's a war inside his body. He wants to punch, to stick his tongue out and leave the room. Throw the role to Wooyoung and start again on the other side of the world — dramatic.

But at the same time he wants to kneel on the bed and wrap his hands around Seonghwa's neck, kiss him until he is panting and then leave him wrecked, enough for him to accept his loss and just abandon the play. Show him he is capable of winning. 

Yet, he freezes again, still looking into his eyes. He is scared. 

"San, your line!" Hongjoong shouts again. 

_Fuck._

San shakes his head, covering his eyes with both his hands. He muffles a sorry, hearing how Seonghwa mumbles under his breath (_What an idiot you are_).

They start again. 

Other two times, not understanding how Hongjoong hasn't given up yet and moved onto the next scene — or just kicked both of them out. 

It goes smoothly the first third time until Seonghwa pushes him out of nowhere claiming he was breathing to harshly. And the second one they bump heads and San ends up punching him on the stomach. Seonghwa hisses and asks for a break. 

_Torture._

San runs to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of his face on the mirror. He looks constipated. It never was that hard to act but on his defense he never really had to interact with the Seonghwa before. 

He opens the tap, water flowing, trying to think in another thing but Seonghwa's face. Death, destruction, Mingi dancing to Dalla Dalla in Jongho's birthday party. Even Yeosang's pink shorts, because he just entered the bathroom. San sighs. "Don't say a thing." 

Yeosang parts lips to smile, moving — practically floats like a fairy — next to the sink, both hands on San's shoulders. They lock gazes on the mirror.

"Are you gonna tell me why are you being so vague today?"

"As if Seonghwa isn't the one being vague" he grunts. "Look at my forehead, he hit me on purpose!" 

There's nothing on his forehead, he only likes to be a little more dramatic than usual when he is in a bad mood. Yeosang's fingers move along his skin, as soft as always. 

Yeosang is not a baby as Wooyoung claims, San knows that. He likes to party, pierced his nipples at eighteen and catfished his contemporary dance teacher because he found him on a contact page. San met him wearing a crop top on the orientation day. He is a scandalous and proud. Yet he does act like a baby sometimes, San needs it the most now. 

"There's more, right?" He asks caressing San's hair. 

San pouts. "I can't kiss him, Sang," he admits. "I thought I could, I tried to think of this as a game, that I am strong enough. But I've been sleeping like shit for three days, my morning routine is ruined and he even saw me naked when you all know how uncomfortable I am with my body," he sighs, moving around the bathroom. "The thought of kissing him grosses me out." 

It makes his stomach clench again, even if it's a fake kiss, the feeling is the same as when he went on holidays and forgot to pay one bill, bubbles of remorse on his chest, two nights without sleeping. Feeling like crying out of nowhere. 

He wants to believe he is a pro, but Seonghwa's attitude is making it really difficult. 

He gets a tight hug from Yeosang, hands on his hair, melting a little onto the touch. He really feels like an idiot for wanting to cry that bad. "He is an asshole for doing that, Sani. I'm so sorry." 

San hums, tongue on his dry lips — perfect for a kiss, huh.

"But you know Seonghwa. He is doing it to piss you off, maybe to kick you out of the play. You think I don't see things? You two are like Tom and Jerry," Yeosang says, sweet smile on his lips. "Play his own game." 

Even when Yeosang likes Seonghwa, he is smart enough to see he is not an angel as Wooyoung likes to say. For that he is San's favorite. 

"But, how?" 

"Just close your eyes, Sani," Yeosang reaches out his arms to him, both hands on his cheeks. "You're an actor, the best actor here. People isn't here to see a movie kiss, this is just an extracurricular activity. Close your eyes and think about, hmmm, Leo DiCaprio on Titanic." 

San presses his lips in a soft smile, letting Yeosang circle his thumbs over his cheeks. "That would be nice. But is still Seonghwa." 

"He is sure you will chicken out, he doesn't plan of you kissing back, believe me." 

"Still," San whines again, trying so hard to win this without having to actually taste Seonghwa's lip balm. 

"Okay, close your eyes," Yeosang says with a sigh, San arches a brow. "Don't look at me that way, close your eyes," he demands then. 

They can hear Hongjoong's voice outside the bathroom, calling them. Break's over and so it's San. He takes a deep breath, air staying on his lungs for a little bit more he planed. 

Eyes still close, he thinks this is just a way of getting rid of the stress. He is wrong as Yeosang leans in, lips on his chin. Not on the lips, yet so close he can smell the strawberry of his lip balm — they've kissed before, at one party, they're that type of friends. 

San flutter his eyes open, finding an smile already on his lips. "It wasn't that bad, right?"

"Yeosang-" 

"Is a fake kiss. You know, no feelings involved. Not even tongue," Yeosang pinches one of his cheeks before the door opens to reveal Wooyoung, immediately frowning. Yeosang winks. "Bet he is even more nervous than you, after looking how hot you are." 

San hits him. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Wooyoung interrupts. "Wait, I don't think I want to know. Hongjoong is calling for you, let's go." 

San looks at himself one more time and closes the tap, feeling real bad about the water he just wasted. The walk from the bathroom to the stage is always short, close enough so they don't have to lose more than five minutes of rehearsal — he is sure he just lost twenty minutes thinking and letting the water flow through the sink though — yet it seems like an eternity to put a feet on the wooden floor and walk to the bed. 

Fingers on his lips, right now San feels more pressured than before. He just needs to close his eyes and ignore Seonghwa. Put on his better acting costume and show his mother he is the star he brags he is — and that she didn't raise a coward. Yet there's a voice at the back of his head telling him he would not make it out alive. 

Hongjoong ask for one more time before moving onto the next scene. 

Incredibly, it flows. Maybe is because they did that scene five times already, or because Yeosang always gives him strength in one way or another. Either way, he starts feeling comfortable enough to not freeze and miss his sentences. 

Scared, San closes his eyes way too soon — he is sure he doesn't have to close them at all, but he is famous for his improvisation skills. Seonghwa's breath tickles him on the lips, he thinks on the project he has due next week and Yeosang kissing his chin. 

There's an eternity of silence surrounding them, one hand on his thigh and a buzz on his ears. His heart is pounding, however, he doesn't feel as bad as before. He feels eager though. _Why is he taking him so long?_

He's about to open his eyes and face Hongjoong, tell him there's no use on keep on doing this because it's obviously the only chemistry they have is to fight, admit this is a game he can't actually win. 

But he doesn't, warm mouth pressed to his lips.

The touch is soft, with no move at all, tasting slightly like cinnamon and summer. You know, like the end of the summer, occasional rain storms and sunshine kissing skin. Nostalgic feelings shaking his chest, smell of new books. New starts, sadness biting his chest. 

Things are not going exactly like he planed — he did not plan a thing to be honest. 

There's a hand on his neck, other on his cheek, squeezing a little so they can finally kiss properly, lips moving in a slow dance. San doesn't really has notion of the time, for him it has passed hours, but maybe the kiss just started as he feels how their chests bump together, his own lips parting a little. He let's the air flow through his parted lips, mixing with the cinnamon scent surrounding them. And the cologne, and the sweat, the lavender shampoo on his hair and something he doesn't catch at all. Spicy. 

"Okay! I think we can move on now," is Hongjoong, sounding a little bit awkward. His voice also sounds so far from where they are.

There's another hand on his chest, pushing him aside. It's then when he opens his eyes, not even having a second to look at Seonghwa in front of him as the boy jumps from the bed and walks out of the room — even when he is on the next scene. San looks how he enters the bathroom. Yeosang's words buzz on his mind (_He is sure you will chicken_ _out_). 

Wooyoung and Yeosang clap at him when they start preparing the next scene. "You did amazing. I told you, a fake kiss is nothing but a fake kiss," Yeosang says, one hand on his shoulder. 

The thing is, for San, it didn't feel fake at all. Everything he tried to keep back, all the thoughts all the nervousness, are back. Falling down his stomach and making a home there. 

His lips are burning.

—

San sees Seonghwa leave the building with an arm wrapped around Wooyoung's waist. 

They seem desperate to leave as neither of them wait to say their goodbyes or accept Ryujin's invitation to go for an ice cream to celebrate San didn't end up crying after the kiss — San does want to cry after it, but he stays strong as he puts on his jacket and picks his bag. 

He accepts the ice cream invitation because he doesn't want to go back to his apartment if Wooyoung is gonna have fun on his room again, yet he is not in one of his biggest moods. 

San is pissed. 

He can't stop biting his cheeks, thinking about how kissing Seonghwa wasn't that bad. _Kissing Seonghwa!_

It's weird, because just the think of Seonghwa kissing him makes him dead mad but, actually kissing him, eyes closed, not being able to look at the start of the kiss — that shy part, sometimes eager and full of desire, before lips meet where the body reacts, ready to receive the other person, locking gazes and smiles blooming out of nervousness — feels way too different from what he is supposed to be feeling. 

It was nice, and it pisses him off that Seonghwa is not only talented, attractive and smart but also a good kisser. (He is also an impolite motherfucker so in the end everything is perfectly balanced though. Seonghwa is still a douchebag. An amazing kisser but a douchebag after all). 

"So, San, it's your time to shine," it's Mingi the one talking, hands drumming on the table as they wait for the lady to take their orders. "How it's to kiss the Park Seonghwa?" 

Mingi talks like he hadn't made out with Hongjoong in that one party — everyone knows Hongjoong has some amazing tongue game. 

They're sitting in a table big enough to have all of them, but not enough to be comfortably though. Leaving Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Hongjoong out, there's seven of them sharing a space for five. Yeosang is on Jongho's lap, San's leg dangerously on top of Yunho.

Ryujin is playing with Mingi's hair as he talks. 

"Bet he is an amazing kisser." 

"Wooyoung always says he knows how to use tongue. He's for sure a french kisser." 

"Wait San, did he use tongue?" 

San narrows his eyes, all eyes on him again. "What the fuck are you saying, Jongho? You're a baby. And you were there, it was just a peck." 

Mingi chuckles. "A five seconds long peck, with one hand on your neck. You have to admit that was hot." 

Five seconds. He swears it felt like five goddamn minutes. 

"I was thinking on my final project, you know, nice things on my mind to not throw up." Yeosang gives him a thumb ups.

It's not a lie after all. He did start thinking on his project way before closing his eyes, about the type of letter he wants to use, the size and how many hours a day he needs to give it to not rush everything in the last week.

He did, but the truck of thoughts took an unexpected turn and ended up in the how smooth Seonghwa's lips were station. 

"Wait does he have a bad breath?" Ryujin gets interested before the lovely lady of the ice cream shop comes to ask for their order. San decides to not answer that because, to be honest, the taste is still on his lips, still spicy. 

Yunho's hand is over his leg as they order — San decides to go with a simple mango one because he isn't still in the mood.

They don't talk more about Seonghwa for the rest of the afternoon as Yunho quickly changes the topic. 

_Thanks_, is what his eyes say when Yunho looks back at him, hand still on his thigh. 

_Fuck_, is what he finds himself thinking as they walk back to his apartment, only the two of them, and Yunho stops to look at the sky. He is not wearing baby blue today, but still looks blue, and baby.

Blue baby boy with the sky as his canvas. 

"I think you'll do amazing. Even if you can't see it, Seonghwa-hyung and you," he stops to look at him, smiling, "have some weird chemistry." 

San bites his tongue then. 

"I didn't like it," he blurts, in need to reassurance. It was nice but he did not like it in any way. "The kiss, I didn't like it." 

Yunho shoots him a soft smile. "Okay." 

Just an okay and they keep on walking. San moves closer and lets his fingers wrap around the fabric of Yunho's yellow shirt. They walk in silence until they reach San's street. 

He is lying. It was kinda good and he _kinda _liked it.


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here we are again, ngl I'm so excited about this fic and I hope you are too!
> 
> I've proofread this four times and I changed things every time so I will just stop here and leave it like this before I change the whole chapter. again, I'm just throwing hints at you but I promise chapter 4 will be more interesting to read!  
again and again thanks for your support, i love you so much!!

San is starting to hate showers as he, totally accidentally and unplanned, walks in Mingi and Hongjoong having sex on a lazy afternoon. 

To say he is shocked is nothing compared to what he really is: lost of words. Not only because he had to see Hongjoong — which he really really _reaaaaaally_ respects to death — being fucked by one of his best friends, legs wrapped around his waist and soft moans filling the room, but because Mingi told him whatever they had was just one kiss at one party. The things is, that party was like four months ago.

(Also, Mingi has a tattoo on one of his butt cheeks. A little butterfly, Yeosang told him about it and he is sure he posted it on his Instagram — it got deleted before San had the opportunity to see it, and he was glad he didn't, until now). 

San has a copy of the key of Mingi's apartment in case of emergency, and shirtless Seonghwa eating cereal on his kitchen is one big emergency. He could've gone to Yeosang's or even Yunho's, but if Seonghwa wants to piss him off, then the less he can do is go to _his _own apartment and sit down on his bed or change the cutlery from their usual spot knowing the older doesn't like neither people on his bed nor touching his cutlery. Weird idiot. 

It was a bad idea to just walk into the bathroom to search for his friend without texting first — and maybe both Hongjoong and Mingi are a little bit into exhibitionism because they were doing it with the curtains open. It's Mingi's house after all. 

"San, San, San," Mingi calls out as the boy storms out of the bathroom, cheeks flushed and heart pounding inside his chest. He does even want to laugh at how ridiculous the situation itself is. "San, wait!" 

The tall boy is half naked, only a towel around his waist and face even redder than San's. The blush crawls into his ears and neck, or are those just hickies? San shakes his head, being stopped by Mingi's fingers around his wrist. He doesn’t want to know. "San," he says again, giving him the _Mingi look._

It was Jongho who started it all, on his birthday party, same day Mingi decided to surprise them all with the perfect choreography of Dalla Dalla. He described it as _if he was looking at me with puppy eyes but not a normal puppy, some weird galaxy puppy with starlight on his eyes, it ate all my soul I couldn't just say no to him_ and everyone started using it after that. Even Mingi, who discovered a new power to take advantage of. 

San has to close his eyes to not fall deep into the starlight shining on his gaze. 

"Look at me, c'mon," he begs. 

"Oh, I don't think I can look at you," he lets out a giggle. He really is the type of person to laugh in such situations. 

"San!" 

Mingi whines, shaking his arm until San flutters his eyes open again, looking at how his hair has started to fall over his face or how his nipples are pointing directly at him. This is an absolute absurd situation. 

"It's okay, it's okay," he assures, taking a deep breath, "we are wild and free, sex is not a taboo, I need to get laid and all that, Wooyoung already made me watch his one hour long PowerPoint presentation about it. It's okay, I'll just go now." 

"No, wait," Mingi stops him again. 

San groans. "Please, I'm really embarrassed, you are embarrassed, I bet Hongjoong can't even get out of the bathroom. Let's just call it a day." 

Mingi uses it then, the puppy look, and San ends up giving up with a sigh, accepting whatever shit Mingi wants to add to their funny little scenario. _It's not what it looks like_ maybe? _I was just washing Joong's hair and you know how soft I get with vanilla scented things so one thing lead to another and now we need another shower _mayhaps? 

They sit on the couch — and Mingi is still wearing nothing but a short towel. San hopes, biting his lower lip, that's the towel Seonghwa uses to wash his face. _Just please._

"It's not what you think," of course, typical. 

"So, you hadn't your dick up Hongjoong's ass just now?" 

Mingi frowns. "Hey, watch your mouth." 

"I'm sorry. Are you more comfortable with the word '_penis_' maybe?" 

"It's not time for jokes!" 

"What do you want me to say?" He buzzes, fidgeting on the couch. "This is so… so… Man, I don't even know what to say. Are you two dating?" 

Mingi catches his lower lip between his teeth, biting hard and nervous. Out of all his friends, Mingi is San's best friend. They met even before stepping inside the drama club room, moreover, they filled in the application paper together, lying on their stomachs on the art building's garden. Yeosang is his favorite, Yunho is his crush, Wooyoung is his flatmate and all of them are his friends. But Mingi is his best friend. 

Not gonna lie, he is a bit hurt he didn't tell him about the whole thing — and just asked if Seonghwa used tongue on their kiss just two days ago instead. 

"I-I don't know," Mingi starts slow, scratching the back of his head. "Remember that time I kissed him?" _Made out_ is what San wants to add, but just nods, lips pressed together in a thin line. "I might've liked it way too much and maybe we started texting, all soft at first but then he _remembered _me how I bit his lip and maybe, just maybe, I used it as a way of flirting, totally joking but he _flirted_ back! One thing lead to another, he sent me a pic of his dick, I liked it-" 

"Dude! What the hell!" San must have heard it wrong, Hongjoong what? 

"I'm being serious!" 

"Hongjoong sent you a nude?" San moves closer, almost whispering, remembering said dude is only on the first floor (possibly still on the bathtub or thinking in a way of jumping from the window without breaking a leg). "I mean, he is Hongjoong. Always scolding us, specially _you_, and he is not the type to, you know, _that_," he is incredulous. 

Mingi smiles, close to actually smirking. "You won't believe me, but he likes it harsh." 

San hits him. He can't believe not only he has to deal with Wooyoung but now with Mingi. Does he really have a sign on his face? Some _please I am desperate to hear about your sexual life, tell me more_ banner hanging from his neck?

"So you are dating?"

"We've been texting for months, but we started sleeping together just a few weeks ago," San thinks it's endearing how Mingi can speak this soft just after telling Hongjoong likes it _harsh. _"We haven't established what we are yet. Friends with benefits?" 

San snorts at that. "Are you even friends? I think colleagues with benefits would sound more accurate." 

"Why are you so moody?" Mingi frowns. "Aren't you my best friend?" 

"Exactly!" San points, literally points a finger on his naked chest. "You are my best friend, but did I hear it from you? No. If I hadn't decided to come what? How more time it'd took you to tell me?" 

It's not that San is mad at him, just feeling betrayed — he is not in the best moment of his life, with Wooyoung being extra loud in bed lately and next rehearsal tomorrow. Yeosang stealing his gummy bears would've had the same effect on him, actually. 

"That's right, why are you here?" San rolls his eyes at Mingi's answer, standing up immediately. The taller boy has to push him back into the couch, squeezing his cheeks. "It's a joke, c'mon, a joke. You've been so tetchy lately." 

"Do you have a clue why?" 

"San," Mingi calls again, snuggling together, using not only the eyes but the puppy voice. "Sani, sunshine, love of my life." 

"It's pretty sure I'm not the love of your life anymore." 

"Don't be jealous," the boy hugs him — he is still naked, very naked, and obviously with not even a smidgen of shame left on his body. "I wanted to tell you, believe me, I wanted so bad. But still, it's Hongjoong and he fears Seonghwa." 

San raises a brow. "What? Seonghwa?" 

"Yeah. I don't know why but he doesn't want him to find out. Maybe it's because they're childhood friends and they grow up together but when Hongjoong found out he was a dom, Seonghwa was out of the town and couldn't tell him." 

"Mingi, are you even hearing yourself?" 

"Whatever! Joong doesn't need Seonghwa to know about what he likes, and we know you'd do anything if that means you can piss Seonghwa off." 

Sincerely, San is way too open with his desires. He would totally love to run back to his apartment and just tell Seonghwa. Bet that would make him lackadaisical enough to mess up with the play and get kicked out of it — yet, that would also make San out of the play because Hongjoong is literally the writer of the whole thing. 

"You won't say a thing, right?" Is not Mingi the one talking, but Hongjoong. He is standing next to the door frame, hair still wet, lips swollen and red. San wants to die and laugh, at the same time. 

The look on Hongjoong's face is a mix of a lot of things: shame, terror, anger, shame again. It's kinda funny to look at him right now. 

"Right, San?" 

There's a lot of things floating on his mind. What's the price of taking Seonghwa down? Lost his star role? Never acting again? He is going to graduate and work on a daycare as he always dreamed off in about a year. And the kiss schedule will be out of the picture too, what is nothing but another good new. 

But Mingi is his friend, and Hongjoong is kinda nice to be a serious design major — a kinky one, though. He is not doing that to them now. Not when he can take advantage of the situation. 

He found gold. 

"Of course," he snaps back into reality, standing up. "Yeah, don't worry. Your secret's safe with me." 

"You're the best, Sani!" Mingi jumps up from the couch, attempting to hug him. It's a fail, towel falling out of his waist. 

San shuts his eyes close immediately. "Cover yourself, dude!" 

—

Things get weird during the next rehearsal, a lot weirder than he thought it'd be thinking he had to spend two hours holding Seonghwa's hand and letting him kiss his cheek, acting all lovely and sweet — to be totally true, the show lost all his charms now that Yunho is not the one playing the role of Jesse, San's heart can't stop crying as Seonghwa intertwines his fingers and Yunho smiles from the front row. 

However, Hongjoong hasn't even looked at him in the eye since the rehearsal started, cheeks still red. And San is still trying hard to hold his giggles. The tension between Mingi and Hongjoong is palpable on the air, and apparently he is not the only one noticing how both of them refuse to function correctly. 

"What's wrong with them?" Wooyoung heads next to him, putting on his jacket.

San is shoving the script on his bag, without care at all, he doesn't like the story as much as before — and what's the point of treating it with care when Yunho is nothing but a backup and the last page is still filled with his name written in his messy handwriting, surrounded by weird shaped hearts? 

"Who?" San plays dumb. 

"Eren Jaeger and Captain Levi," he points at the two boys, awkwardly exchanging a few words over the script, and San can't help but chuckle at how Hongjoong keeps on avoiding his gaze. 

"Wooyoung, baby, have you seen yourself standing next to Seonghwa?" He closes his bag, grinning at him. "You are a gnome." 

"Thanks for the sudden abuse," the small boy hisses. "But for real, I never saw Mingi that… Nervous? We bumped onto Hongjoong on the cafeteria earlier and he practically ran away." 

"Which one?" 

"Both," Wooyoung rolls his eyes. "They left me alone. Do you know something?" 

San stops, staring at him. The little incident happened a day ago and after leaving Mingi's house he went straight to Jongho's because he is the only one he can play Fortnite with — and because Jongho never asks questions. He didn't talk with anybody, not even with Wooyoung being this their first interaction in hours as San arrived late at night and Wooyoung left early in the morning. 

He gulps. "Why are you asking _me_?" 

Wooyoung arches a brow. "Why? Isn't Mingi your best friend or something?" San's lips shape in a perfect O before Wooyoung is sighing. Of course. Is that, only that. 

"Oh, yeah. He didn't tell me, maybe they fought? I don't care, I have to shower because there was an intruder in my bathroom this morning," he spills, acid on his tongue. He really is tired of having Seonghwa around. "The real question here is what's wrong with _you two_?"

"Don't start again, it's my life." 

"Too many sex is bad for your brain, Woo," he gets a middle finger back as a reply. "I'm just trying to be a good friend!" 

"You're not putting a foot on my car, Choi San." 

San makes a pause. Well, that's a shame because he doesn't like to walk neither walk home alone. His gaze falls on Yunho then, walking in his direction. Okay, maybe he needs to thank Wooyoung. 

The younger fixes his hair in a sneaky way, pinching his cheeks to gain a little more color as Yunho stops Wooyoung to tell him something, getting a thumbs up as a reply. San is quick in showing his dimples when Yunho stops in front of him. "Hey." 

"Hi," Yunho smiles back. "We were thinking on going off for dinner later. We can count with you, right?" 

"Sure! It'll be nice. I have to go shower now, but please send me the location later." 

Yunho nods. "I just invited Woo, he will take you. I'll see you later then." 

"Yeah," San waves him goodbye, looking at how Yunho reaches Yeosang and Seonghwa on the stage, telling the same words. 

It's his chance.

Obviously, there's no way he is confessing at the end of the play as he had planned — perfectly planned until Hongjoong decided to mess with his life — and if Yunho has to witness how he kisses Seonghwa an amount of three times in the whole play, then the less he can do is confess soon enough for him to know this is nothing but torture for him. Tell him there's no way he is comfortable around Seonghwa, and that he will never be. 

He can't help but smile like a fool, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and saying his goodbye to the third shift students that need to stay to keep on painting the scenarios when Mingi stops him. 

"San, I need your help," he pleads. 

"What now?" He asks with a sigh. It's already 7 PM and he can't really lose more time now that Wooyoung decided to ditch him out of his car. 

Mingi, instead of being on the stage, brush in hand, has his jacket and backpack on. This doesn't look good. 

"Can you please take my shift? I need to go back to my apartment like, right now." 

San frowns, searching for Hongjoong around the room. He's not on sight. "Okay, I understand it. We are best friends and I caught you with your, _yeah_, so now you think I'm gonna be your sidekick right? Don't get me wrong, I'd love it, but I have better things to do." 

He shakes his head, using a hand to move him to one side. Mingi is quick in holding onto the sleeve of his hoodie, stopping him. "What are you saying?" 

"Now that I think of it, that's the reason Seonghwa is always on my apartment, huh?" San pushes him, rolling his eyes. "That's a shit move, Min." 

"Not that I want to sound like Wooyoung, but you really need to get laid, San. You are insufferable." 

"Nice thing to say to the person you're asking to cover you." 

Mingi takes a deep breath. "First, I'm not asking you to cover me now. Hongjoong has classes until nine. And let me tell you I don't need your help with that, thank you very much." 

They move to one side, Hongjoong walking then past them to meet the teacher in charge of the club, not even glancing at them. San frowns again. "Then what?" 

"My landlord is coming to change us the fridge, and I need to be there." 

"What about your roommate right there?" He points at Seonghwa, sitting by the edge of the stage, taking a selca. Pouty lips first, peace sign right after. 

The older boy is wearing his black hair up, heavy makeup on his eyes and lips — not anymore, San spent five minutes trying to remove the red lipstick staining his lips and chin, bet he did it on purpose. His eyebrows are pointy today, remarking his strong features. 

Is ridiculous how much of a model he looks like right now. 

San stops looking when Seonghwa sticks his tongue out for the camera to see. 

"Hwa has been skipping the shifts a lot, Hongjoong won't allow him to go. C'mon San, I really need to go now." 

"Why me?" 

"Because you're my best friend, friends help each other." 

"I saw you naked, I don't think you have the right to ask me favors." 

Mingi steps forward, holding both his hands and squeezing tight. "I will do anything, I really need the new fridge. I've been eating take out for a week." 

It takes San a moment to release the air on his lungs. As much as he likes to believe in comeuppance, life must've thought he fucked really bad because his luck is totally vanished by now — it has to be his morning ritual, totally ruined by that idiot. 

He ends up accepting with a sigh. "Okay, whatever. But you'll be buying me dinner tonight." 

"Yes! I will! I love you, Sani!" 

Mingi smiles widely, leaning in to give him a big smooch on the cheek. He bursts out of the room just a second after, leaving San alone. Well, not alone at all; Yeosang, Jisung and Seonghwa are still there. 

His backpack feels suddenly so heavy.

Fuck.

—

One hour pass by painting the windows of Noah's room. They barely talk, Jisung asking for permission to put on some music and San being fast in accepting it to not having to interact with Seonghwa more than needed — asking him for the black paint and receiving a grin in response. 

Yeosang starts chatting about Yunho's birthday when they're almost reaching the end, the clock hand almost pointing nine, freedom time. He realizes how close they are to Yunho's birthday — only a week from now — and how he hadn't had time to find for a proper gift, getting all nervous as he finish his part.

The boy wants to make Yunho a surprise party, making San all giggly inside; he loves birthday parties. 

"You two will need to put your bickering aside for a night," Yeosang says, pointing at them with the brush. "For Yun, it's his day." 

"Don't point at me, he's the one punching me," Seonghwa scoffs. 

"Payback for using my shampoo," San growls, still mad at how the lavender shampoo is almost done by now. 

"Not my fault Wooyoung's makes my hair dry," the older boy points at him with the brush, paint falling on his cheek. San parts his lips, stupidly raising a hand to his face, wiping the paint with a finger. Seonghwa's can't help but chuckle, trying hard to hold back his laughter. "Oops." 

_How you fucking dare_ is what San is supposed to say, stay calm enough to not do a stupidity, but everyone knows San can't hold back. That's his personal charm.

Instead, he flicks the brush in Seonghwa's direction, paint getting all over his neck.

"Fucker." 

"This is exactly what I meant," Yeosang laughs a little, not being able to control Seonghwa when he moves forward, throwing the whole brush in San's direction. "Hwa, no," he sighs, the softest scold San had ever heard.

The brush falls directly on his hoodie. His _new_ hoodie.

"Are you crazy?"

"Sorry, it slipped from my hand."

There's sarcasm filling the boy's voice, half meaning it half trying to provoke him — and he is totally succeeding at getting on his nerves. San doesn't let Yeosang stop him, and for the way they end up pouring up the white paint all over the freshly painted window, it ends up being one big mistake for his part. 

"Oh, man," is Jisung the one talking as Yeosang really tries to stop them from getting more paint on their faces. "It took us three whole days to finish this." 

That was a lot for a single window, much to say about their art skills.

Seonghwa has half his face covered in paint when Yeosang finally manages to put them apart and so does San, adding the yellow hoodie he will have to throw on the can because it's totally ruined by now. 

He is furious, fire on his tongue, fingernails scratching the skin of his palms as Hongjoong, attracted by the noise, scolds them. San decided to shut up, even when it was Seonghwa the one who started it all _and_ the one kicking the paint pot. To summarize, they need to stay to give the window another layer of black paint. Only the two of them. 

_Great. _

"You better don't fight, or one hour will turn into two, and you'll have to sleep here," Seonghwa doesn't even stays to listen to Yeosang, hiding in the bathroom instead. The younger boy smiles with his lips pressed in a thin line, putting on his jacket. "Don't fight, San." 

"He started it!" 

"Don't fall for his game, already told ya," Yeosang caresses his cheek for a second. "Kiss him, maybe? That way he won't be able to talk." 

"I'd rather die," San grunts, then bumps fists. "Tell Yunho I'm sorry, I don't know if I'll make it on time."

"I'll tell him, baby." 

"Also, tell Mingi he needs to buy me a new hoodie." 

Yeosang's only reply is a giggle and he is already out of the room. San wants to die. He gets rid of the hoodie, sitting down in front of the window, legs crossed, and fingers covered in black paint. 

He looks at his phone, opening Yunho's chat. His eyes wander around Yunho's profile picture, peace sign and wide smile. His last message was the recipe of a lasagna, three days ago. With a sigh, he locks his phone and puts it back on the pocket of his jeans. 

As he starts painting again, he hears the door opening again to reveal Seonghwa — just when he started thinking he had ditched him. The older boy doesn't say shit, taking a sit in front of him, face red of rubbing his fingers to get rid of the paint. 

They work in silence and when they manage to finally cover all the white in black, it's already ten o'clock. 

He checks his messages.

**yeosang, 9:31 PM**

_dude we're starting dinner_

_I tried to make them wait but wooyoung is _

_acting like he hasn't eaten in years_

_sorry :(_

San grunts, feeling a little bit sad on the inside.

**yunho, 9:56 PM**

_San_

_We're still on Taco Bell_

_We can wait for both of you _

He reads the message, looks at Seonghwa checking his face on the camera of his phone, then back again to the phone. His heart is screaming to just go and order five tacos, yet his brain is saturated of Seonghwa and the only thing his body wants right now is to meet his bed and sleep for years — he has an 8 AM next morning, fuck his life.

**san, 10:05 PM**

_sorry :(_

_It's been a hell of an afternoon _

_let's call it a day_

The reply appears immediately, almost as if Yunho had been waiting for him.

**yunho, 10:05 PM**

_Don't worry_

_We have plenty of nights _

_Sleep well Sani ❤ _

**san, 10:06 PM**

_enjoy it _

He has another message from Yeosang.

**yeosang, 10:06 PM**

_yunho just told me you won't come :/_

_are you getting some dick? _

**san, 10:07 PM**

_idiot_

San stands up, putting on his jacket. 

"You still have paint on your cheek," Seonghwa points, getting ignored. 

The younger crawls his feet to the bathroom, opening the tap, black paint on his cheeks, chin, nose. How in the world did he get paint on his neck? He starts rubbing his fingers, trying to remove the dried stains without no success — damn, he looks like a panda now. 

The door opens with a crack, Seonghwa's eyes piercing him on the mirror. 

San throws his head back, a pissed whine leaving his parted lips. "What now?" 

The latter doesn't talk at first, saving the space between them and leaning over the closest wall. There's still a stain of paint on his jaw, where San's eyes land for a few seconds. Seonghwa draws his tongue to his lips, licking slowly. 

"What do you want, Seonghwa?" San grunts, fingers pressed tightly to the sink, white knuckles on sight. 

"Why are you making things so damn difficult?" Seonghwa hisses, making him want to laugh. Yet he doesn't. 

San sighs. "Okay, what do you expect me to do? Act like I don't despise you? When I'm being forced to kiss you?" He laughs, dry, closing the tap. "The only reason I'm not biting you is because everyone is looking." 

"Behave." 

San arches a brow, feeling his body shake at how low the boy's voice just sounded. "Excuse me?" 

Seonghwa moves closer, one hand on the sink, the other on the wall at his back, practically fencing him with his body. San moves the farthest the wall allows him yet is not enough, getting a full view of his eye makeup, all smeared, little glitter shining from his eyelashes. 

"You need to learn how to behave. I am older than you, yet you keep on acting like a brat." 

San gets he is not joking around that time, way too serious to be just messing around with him but— he likes Wooyoung after all, and Wooyoung is such a brat. He gulps, feeling the sweat covering his hands. 

"Huh? So that's what you want?" He says, yet his voice sounds hoarse. "To act all pliant and quiet for you?" 

Seonghwa stares at him, not moving an inch. His breath is not as calm as he tries to be, breaking through his pressed teeth, jaw tightened. San bites his cheek, waiting for his next words. 

"It'd be good of you." 

San wants to laugh, but at the same time he also wants to scream. His whole body is shaking, rage, feebleness, fear twisting together on his brain, making him dizzy. However, not enough to stop him from feeling a little bit excited too. Just a little, adrenaline rushing through his veins, pulling from the muscles of his face to make him pull a cheeky smile. 

"What a shame I am nothing but a brat," he hisses, stepping on him. 

He hears Seonghwa groan, moving enough to allow him to escape. San almost jumps, gaining distance. He is still covered in paint but as if he could care less. 

"I told you," he starts, locking gazes again, "I'm not gonna give up. I never surrender." 

With that, he exits the bathroom. Heart pounding, cheeks flushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl I don't know if this is going too fast or I'm just sticking to slowburn, but enjoy brat San like I do


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is the last filler I will write, we just needed some background to /finally/ fall deep into the sanhwa  
chapter 5 will be about yunho's bday party and things will get a little bit heated (fucking finally)
> 
> This chapter is shorter but it has one small thing that will make San and Seonghwa closer, so if you get it, please don't doubt on telling me (I'm flirtwoo in cc and bubblesani on twitter it's midnight and the link isn't working damn)

Although there's a lot of things San hates, kids could never go in that long list. Not even when they cry, scream or drool over his clothes. They're just kids and San loves them. For that, the days he has to go practice at daycare are the best days of the week for him.

He loves the mix of smell that always welcomes him: fresh, a little bit flower scented, baby powder, soft honey shampoo, colored pencils, clay.

First thing he does is put on the apron, name tag hanging from it. He feels happy to be here again.

"Professor Choi! You're back!"

San kneels immediately, opening his arms for the little girl to run into the hug. They're best friends. To be true, Hwayoung — the little girl in question — asked him to marry her on his first day there, and San told her they needed to wait a few years before marriage. So they ended up being best friends and sharing an apple juice box.

"How are you, _ beautiful flower _? Ready to paint another sun for your mom?" San asks, fixing her little braids, fingers pinching his cheeks right after.

"No, today I am going to do your hair!" 

"Okay, that will be super nice. I didn't have time to brush my hair today!" The boy shakes his head quickly, getting messy hair over his face, making the girl burst in giggles. 

She tells him to just take a sit while she goes to prepare everything. It's almost 8 AM and kids are still getting there. The classes vary from the smallest ones (babies to three years old) to the big kids (from four to five years). San chose to be in the big kids classroom because he just likes that, getting his hair done, painting his nails, making cucumber and chocolate sandwiches or just talking. It's so nice talking with kids. 

"How can you be this hype so early in the morning, Choi?" Hansol is still half asleep, barely standing still on his own legs.

"C'mon, he has a girlfriend," Minho sings mockingly from his other side, moving his hands around as if he is throwing rose petals. "Of course he will get excited to come."

San chuckles, fixing the name tag on the apron of his classmate. "There's at least two statements wrong in that sentence."

First, the _ girlfriend _is only four years old. Second, he likes older women. Third, he is excited because the daycare is the only place where he can finally breathe lately. No Wooyoung, no Mingi, and above all, no Seonghwa. Inside the small classroom he is allowed to be himself, the real version of himself. Not fake smiles, because they are all real, no blood burning on his veins, because kids are like the soft sunshine kissing his skin every afternoon; it doesn't hurt, it makes him sleepy and lazy. 

"Professor Choi," Hwayoung calls him, a dozen of colourful hair ties on her hands. "I'm ready."

The smile on his lips can be described as brighter than the sun, bumping fists with his classmates as the three of them start moving around the classroom, enjoying the kids company, letting them pull from their hands. One of the kids drags Minho into the playground while a girl pats Hansol's cheek, asking if he is okay. San is happy to sit on the floor, letting the kids play with his hair, talking softly about their week. 

After one hour, his hair is filled with colors and tiny ponytails. Hwayoung reaches a mirror, smiling so wide at how San gasps, amazement filling his features, asking for permission to take a few selcas. They both smile into the phone. 

San loves his job. 

As an only child, seeing people spending time with siblings and the mandatory nephews that come after always made him a little bit jealous. Dealing with kids was so hard in the past, because they cry and they get bored so easily. But it got better, and spending time at the daycare not only brings him nostalgic memories of his childhood but also makes him feel really content at the heart. 

At lunch time, they all share a table. 

"Professor Choi, would you like to taste my sandwich?" One of the kids offers him his tiny, a little bit shattered, kimbap.

"Of course, let's see."

He munches slowly, putting on his best astonished face. Is so easy to make kids happy.

"Dude, how can you eat this?" Minho whispers, drinking the whole juice bottle in one go. "I think I just ate cucumber and raspberries at the same time, and it just tasted like the diet milkshakes my mom drinks."

His friends shakes a little in front of him, tongue immediately meeting his lower lip. 

"That's an exquisiteness compared to the one Yeosang and Yunho made me on my birthday party," San explains with a mild-smile, still munching. There's carrots, mayonnaise and gummy bears. _ Uhh. _ "They put strawberry jam, mustard, ketchup and, hmm, nutella! All together," Minho grimaces, mimicking a gag and making one of the kids burst so hard into laughter his nose lets out a big booger bubble. San giggles along. 

"They're gross," is Minho's reply.

"Wooyoung bet they wouldn't eat it, Yeosang ended on the hospital."

"Damn." 

Lunch time is followed by nap time and even when San wants to lay next to the kids, wrap himself in a teddy bear patterned, baby powder scented, blanket and disappear for hours inside a warm blanket burrito, he just can't. 

He walks to the garden where his classmates already are, sharing a conversation and a cigarette with the teachers. One of them offers San one but he declines it, taking a sit next to Daehyun. She is his seatmate on the classroom, but a total baby lover so she decided to went into the small kids class.

"Babies are so cute," she sighs, heart eyes and weak limbs. "I just had one on my arms, he was sleeping. It was so cute I felt my soul leaving my body," she keeps on going, almost ignoring San's presence next to him. "They remind me of you, for that I like you so much, Choi Sani. You are just like a baby."

She squeezes his cheeks. "Stop that."

"Baby, baby, babiest," she chants, stopping when San frowns at her. She presses her lips together, making a pout right after. "Boring."

They're sitting at one of the benches, the breeze is not cold but still waves their hair. After nap time, there's only one hour and they'll have to go back home. San feels like he is about to wake up from a wonderful dream.

"What is making you so cranky lately?"

San takes his time, looking at the sky. Is blue, clear, peaceful. "Life," he says. 

"Hmm," Dahyun bounces her legs, biting down his lip. "When I met you, you were a little bit sarcastic, kinda like you were the king of your own world. But it was nice talking with you. Lately you've been acting like you have a stick up your ass, just like a brat."

San turns his head so fast he gets a little bit dizzy. He examines Dahyun, who can only flutter her eyes wide open, confused expression all over her face.

"What?"

It's Monday, a whole weekend since Seonghwa told him the exact same words. He is still pissed by that, still shaking inside. Like both rage and excitement are fighting on his brain, trying to decide who will win: mad him, ready to just ignore Seonghwa until June or cheeky him ready to play along that game and make him whine under his lips. 

"Did I say something wrong—"

San shuts her, shaking his head. "No, sorry. It's just… Someone called me a brat a few days ago. Am I really one?"

It's not a secret everyone thinks of San as a sarcastic piece of shit — again, Wooyoung's words and again, _ fuck you, Wooyoung _— but that never really bothered him. San grow up in a farm, with his grandparents, so he literally doesn't care at all about what other say of him. He knows he is sarcastic, and sometimes can get a little bit narcissistic. But he was never called a brat, not until now, and it's making him a more cranky than usual, as Daehyun pointed. 

"It's not that you are, it's that you are acting like one," Daehyun sighs, patting his leg. "But don't worry, it makes you less baby and more hot. I tell you as a lesbian, so imagine the power you'd have in people that actually likes dick."

Power. That's something never really pointed out about him. It's kinda nice, kinda exciting. Bubbles bursting on the palms of his hands, hundred scenarios molding on his brain.

"Did I hear you were talking about dick? Let me join, I have this amazing story," Minho decides to sit down in front of them. "It has everything: a Christmas party, hot chocolate and my mom asking a lot of uncomfy questions."

—

There's this thing about Choi San where he can't really choose one side, so he always goes with everything. Like that time he made everyone watch a scary movie on Halloween but ended up needing to cuddle Wooyoung to sleep because he was dead scared. Or how he wanted both red and black hair, and he got it. Or right now, pissed he has to go to rehearsal again but aware of that power Daehyun mentioned. Smile shyly breaking through his lips. 

He has been thinking about that. When he lay on bed that night, his mind went dizzy of all the scenarios that started blooming out of a single thought. He isn't sure about what Seonghwa is thinking though, but there's nothing he can lose as he steps on the room ready to kiss him. They have to kiss anyway, and Seonghwa made it crystal clear that he wanted him to be _ pliant and quiet. _

San is happy to deliver the good news: he is not pliant, and he will not behave. 

Oh, boy. He is so ready to use his power — his brat power — and win this time. Daehyun's words not leaving his mind: Seonghwa does like _ dick _ and he thinks of him as a brat. It's perfect. 

"You look happy today," Yeosang points out, swedish fish between his lips. "Something happened?"

San shrugs, smiling. "I had practice at daycare yesterday, Hwayoung did my hair, a girl called me hot and there was no Park Seonghwa on my bathroom today," he makes a review, happily. "Do you want to see a picture of my hair?"

"Of course," Yeosang lets a cute sound slip through his lips, totally begging San to send him that picture he just show him — cutely winking, dimples on display, hair filled with color. "I'm glad you're happy. I thought you'd be some kind of depressed, crying ball of sadness by now."

San arches a brow. "And why would I?"

Yeosang munches on his jelly, lips pouting in his direction. He waits a little to answer, almost as if he is enjoying the tension of the moment. 

"You had to stay until late the other day, alone with Seonghwa," he says, nothing weird, and then adds. "Couldn't go see Yunho."

San rolls his eyes, walking to the dressing room again. There's no one yet, so he is brave enough to ask out loud while he opens his locker to put his bag in.

"Can you elaborate that, please?"

Yeosang scoffs. "Because you have a crush on him, silly, what more?"

San's hands freeze in the locker, slowly turning his head back to Yeosang. The boy is not smiling, not even looking at him with a playful grin. Just being Yeosang. Mortified, San tilts his head. "You know?"

He wants to laugh at how hoarse his voice sounds, fear floating in every word. 

"It's kinda obvious," Yeosang shrugs and San quickly moves to stand in front of him, hands on his shoulders, words not making it out of his throat. His locker is still open. "Are you gonna punch me to buy my silence? Bad guy."

"No! I mean—" he pauses, loud heartbeats at the back of his head. "How obvious it is? _ I'm the only one that knows because I'm gifted with the third eye for crushes _ kind or _ Even Yunho knows, leave the country _kind?"

Yeosang pauses for a second, almost enjoying how San bites his lower lip in anticipation, dying to know or just wanting to die in general because _ fuck. _ "I'd say _ you are obvious as fuck but not enough to make it obvious to the rest, just stop eating him with your eyes please _ kind."

San sighs, fingers finally leaving his shoulders and meeting his own hair. This is a little bit fucked up, but if Yeosang is the only one that knows, then everything is okay. For now.

"It's okay. Have you seen Yunho? Totally understandable."

"Are you telling him?"

Yeosang puts another fish into his mouth. "Nah. Why would I?" San could make a whole list of reasons, but prefers to shut up and wait. "It's not like you are fucking him like Mingi is doing with Hongjoong. Just enjoy young love while you can, Sani."

San chokes on his saliva. "How do you know _ that _?"

"It's incredible how all of you are so blind," Yeosang laughs, sighing when he reaches for another jelly just to find an empty bag. "I can tell you about Seonghwa's crush if you want."

_ Seonghwa has a crush? _

That's new due to how much Seonghwa loves Seonghwa, yet San doesn't need to know it. He shakes his head, biting his tongue.

"Wait, so you know about Mingi and Hongjoong?" San has to nod, pulling his hoodie up his head and throwing it inside the locker before closing it. He tells Yeosang how he found them on the shower, making the other boy scream. "I had to witness Mingi's mouth around Hongjoong's d—"

"Let's go," San interrupts, just in time to high five Mingi and Wooyoung as they enter the dressing room.

Sincerely, San is back at being nervous.

Sweaty palms as Yunho enters the room. Sometimes he hates how Yeosang is so observant, but he is lucky the boy is not that much of a busybody to be sharing it with all their group of friends — being Seonghwa part of that group. He doesn't need Seonghwa to find his weak point as he knows the boy would immediately use it against him (and the only thing San has against him is how Hongjoong is a dom). Even when he just told about him about Mingi, almost telling about Seonghwa.

Okay so maybe Yeosang do like gossip way too much, he needs to be real careful — or just, _ please _, confess. 

He bites his fingernails waiting for the rehearsal to start, reviewing every step of his plan, listening how Yeosang tells him about Mingi fighting with a freshman for a piece of chocolate. He doesn't care, he takes a deep breath. _ Power _ , he chants to himself. _ Think of it, San, you've got power. _

And after a couple minutes the only thing on his mind is Exo's Power playing on repeat. At least, he can distract himself for the next ten minutes until Hongjoong asks them to start as they don't have a lot of time — they need to think about the vestments today. 

"Let's go from the start," Hongjoong says, clearing his throat. "Yeosang, I need you to raise your voice a little more today. Try to sound happier, okay?"

Yeosang pouts. "How I'm gonna do that? This is the happiest I can be," he says in a plain tone, making everyone laugh.

They start smoothly as they've been practicing the start of the play for three days already. San wants to quickly move to the end — but there's still almost two months and a half until the summer festival and lots of things to do —, feeling bored than usual, moving slowly and almost tripping with his own feet. Hongjoong doesn't say a thing, maybe because he is in a rush to decide the clothing and take measures — everyone is sure Mingi needs special pants, and they need to prepare Yunho's and Wooyoung's clothes too in case Seonghwa accidentally falls down the stairs or San disappears without clues —, maybe because San saw him naked.

He doesn't care. 

The bed scene comes up again. He sits down and so does Seonghwa, visibly more comfortable than the past days. "C'mon," Seonghwa mouths, one hand already on his cheek to pull him closer. His mind feels dizzy when their lips meet again, this time the taste of raspberry falling onto San's lips. 

_ Step one, don't flinch when Seonghwa leans in. _

_ Step two, don't let Seonghwa intimidate you. _

_ Step three, be playful. _

San smiles a little, lips moving for the first time, catching Seonghwa out of guard as the boy gasps, fingers scratching his leg. San sighs into Seonghwa's lip, small whine escaping his mouth, low enough for only Seonghwa to hear. San is the one pulling aside, heart pounding but, hey, that was nice; the way Seonghwa looks down at him with such curiosity and rage twisting on his eyes makes his stomach clench. 

"I liked that," Hongjoong shouts, smiling widely. "It was very natural, good job, San."

San smiles at both the praise and how Seonghwa clenches his jaw before standing up. 

_ Step four, let it sink. _

—

Later, San finds himself thinking about Seonghwa. It is nothing out of his normal thought schedule as it always starts with Wooyoung and dirty dishes, moving slowly into what he wants for dinner, Yunho's smile and that one marvellous time he beated Jongho at Fortnite, still unforgettable, finally crashing into how much he wants to punch Seonghwa.

Totally normal.

However, he had been thinking more about new things lately. There's Yunho's birthday party and the fact that he has to buy a present before Friday — it's Tuesday —, there's also Mingi and Hongjoong much to his disgrace, because, _ please, _ he just wants to forget — there's the added butterfly on Mingi's butt cheek. The way Yeosang seems to be powerful enough to destroy every single one of them with whatever he holds inside his brain.

Oh, and the fact that he did amazing with Seonghwa, still feeling his hands sweaty. He took it after Wooyoung, the whine, knowing perfectly it would work with Seonghwa as he is the one making Wooyoung moan. 

Smile breaks through his lips, air tickling his lungs. He thinks about how Seonghwa couldn't stop sighing for the rest of the rehearsal and preferred to take his measurements other day, putting on his sunglasses and leaving before San could even start enjoying how pissed he was.

Biting down his lip, he rolls in bed. He comes to realise Seonghwa might be mad at him, and that maybe he really holds power, but not in a way he can be safe around him. It's Seonghwa, and Seonghwa hates him — much better, Seonghwa _ hates _ when San gets praised, and he just did. And maybe, just maybe, Seonghwa likes Wooyoung in a way more intimate. Not just as friends with benefits.

Once again, he is totally split. 

Rolling again, he bites the inside of his cheeks and shuts his eyes tightly. _ It's okay, you pissed him off, that's the only important now. _

Yeosang telling him about how he knows about his crush takes a place after Seonghwa, making him stressed about his feelings for Yunho. He needs to confess. 

—

San has been sticking his tongue into the kiss scenes for two days straight, tasting whatever lip balm Seonghwa decided to put in — honey on Wednesday, fresh apples on Thursday — and the frustration spilling directly from the tip of his tongue.

Amazingly, Seonghwa decided to stay relatively calm, not talking back nor trying to pinch him when San lets his fingers thread on his hair to pull him closer into the kiss and Hongjoong praises him again — _ it looks so natural, I love that! _

San finds it weird, buzzing at the back of his ears, but doesn't complain because he finally feels comfortable on the stage and everyone has been telling him how good of an actor he is again.

Dahyun tells him on Tuesday morning that he looks different, losing all his recently acquired hotness, and San also sticks his tongue at her — but then leans in to plant a big and loud kiss on her cheek because it's all thanks to what she told him. Dahyun whines. 

When rehearsal ends, San has to stay a little more, standing in the middle of the room, letting Hongjoong take his measures as he is still confused on what clothes will make him look more cocky — apparently, his pink hoodie is way too soft for _ Noah _. 

As he stretches his arms in the air, letting Hongjoong work on the length of his pants, it hits him that he hasn't properly talked with Hongjoong about everything. _ Everything _meaning not only Mingi, but also why he chose them both as the main roles of his play.

"I was wondering," he starts, slow and lazy. "Why Seonghwa and me?"

"You seem pretty comfortable with it," Hongjoong replies in a low voice, awkwardness shaking his voice. 

San frowns, turning on his heels as Hongjoong orders him. "We are actors," he says, repeating Seonghwa's words. "Yet, isn't Wooyoung better at being cocky?"

Hongjoong pats his leg, making him turn again. This time he stands up, putting the dressmaker's tape measure around his waist. "You want me to put Wooyoung? I can totally do it."

"Oh, you won't," San scoffs, feeling how Hongjoong's ears turn a little red, matching his hair now. "I love the role, yeah. But why us? Did Seonghwa ask for it?"

_ To piss me off, maybe? _ He bites his lip as he thinks. _ Because he knows I can't control myself? _

"Seonghwa asked the same question," Hongjoong sighs. "And no, before you keep on going, I'm not trying to punish you."

So Seonghwa asked the same exact questions. It makes San a little bit more relaxed, to know Seonghwa hasn't just been eating all his words — or worse, hasn't been feeling threatened by San's action, not even a little — and just exploded to Hongjoong.

"Relax your arms," Hongjoong says, moving to his back, pressing his fingers to his shoulders. "You two are the best ones of the company. What did you expect me to do? Put Mingi and Yeosang?"

San smirks. 

"Yah, better don't say it," Hongjoong moves out then, taking the last note on his notebook. "You can go now."

It makes sense, now that he finally stops and thinks about it. Even when they hate each other, they're still the best actors. What it doesn't make sense at all is why Seonghwa hasn't cornered him yet. 

He picks up his bag and storms out of the room, waving quickly at Hongjoong, thinking about how he still needs to buy something for Yunho. 

—

After one hour wandering around the mall, San ends up in a decoration store, standing in front of the cup section, debating between a white cup with a rainbow or a blue one filled with little bees. He knows Yunho loves to scream to the world how gay he is, but also, blue is totally Yunho's color so it takes him a fat twenty minutes to just move on and buy a bath kit.

When he arrives home, the smell of something new attacks him: homemade food.

"Wooyoung?" He asks, attentively, as he walks to the kitchen. He opens his eyes, astonished to find Wooyoung in an apron, fighting with the stove. "Are you cooking?"

"Yeah!" The boy half laughs half screams for help.

San arches a brow. In their two years as roommates, Wooyoung had cook for him only once (spicy ramen that ended up being way too spicy for San to finish it) and it was only because he got chosen as the main dancer of some important competition.

Wooyoung only cooks when he is extremely happy, which makes San real curious about the sudden smell of fried chicken filling their small kitchen. He puts the gift on the table before moving to open the window — there's so much smoke.

"What are we celebrating?" He cares to ask, not missing how Wooyoung smiles. 

"Nothing," he starts, pulling the chopsticks towards San after picking one piece of chicken. It melts inside San's mouth, eyes opening in amazement. "Good?" 

San quickly nods, standing next to him to take another bite. "This is delicious!"

"Thank God!" Wooyoung lets out a breath, hitting one of his hands right after, telling him to just wait for dinner.

San moves around the kitchen until the food is totally done — curry, Wooyoung made curry, some old super secret family recipe that makes San's stomach growl, both in pleasure and worry. Why is Wooyoung suddenly making such a big dish? Why is he cooking, first of all? 

He asks about Yunho's gift and San is happy to tell — the kit includes three different bath bombs, shampoo, body lotion, bath salts and cologne, all flower scented as Yunho likes. Wooyoung bought him a cup. 

"So, why the dinner?" San asks again, both of them sitting cross-legged in front of the coffee table. "You never cook."

In front of him, Wooyoung has been calmer than ever, nervous smile never leaving his lips. He licks the tip of his chopsticks before looking at San dead in the eye.

"I'm gonna ask Seonghwa out," he blurts, unable to hide the nervous grin that takes over his face. "Tomorrow, at the party."

San freezes on the spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohwa rise?


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back after years! Living without wifi is so hard :(  
I'm not gonna say a lot (bc I have classes in 15 minutes), just that this chapter is 10K words, I don't even know how, and that a lot of things will happen so fasten your seatbelts before reading!
> 
> (and enjoy!)
> 
> *might contain typos bc I rushed this while I had wifi, I'll fix it later*

_Wooyoung what?_

It's been five hours but San can't stop thinking about it, the fact that Wooyoung is going to ask Seonghwa out. As in _real boyfriends._ Wooyoung and Seonghwa. That's really low of Wooyoung. _Where did friendship go?_

Already in bed, he can't help but go back to the dinner again and again and _again._ The taste of chicken is still glued to his tongue, amazing at first but a little bit disgusting after that declaration. Now the taste of spicy chicken only brings him back to Seonghwa. And how Wooyoung couldn't stop signing a song while doing the dishes.

Wooyoung. Who never does the dishes because _San will do it later._

Wooyoung, who only a few weeks ago told him how they fucked in the bathroom with a cheeky grin, now looks so in love. _In love._

They're in love and San doesn't know what to feel.

He rolls in bed, eyes fluttering open for the fifth time tonight, not being able to catch any sleep. There's a lot to talk, but no one with. His mind is on fire, screaming and laughing at him. Fuck Mingi and his _'they're only releasing college stress'_ and fucking fuck Wooyoung's _'we are only having fun'._ It's obvious the fun ended up in feelings, and for the way Seonghwa had been all over the younger boy, there's high chances of San being kicked out of his own apartment because they want to live together.

And then what? San has to share an apartment with Mingi and go through the same _my roommate has a friends with benefits _stage until he decides to confess to Hongjoong and once again he is kicked to live with some random designer that wakes him up at 3 AM to feel his thighs? No thanks.

Ridiculous.

He stands up and wanders around the apartment when the clock hits 2:30 AM. For the first time in days, it's calm. Silence only being broken by the sound of his bare feets meeting the floor of the kitchen and the fridge welcoming him with a soft purr. He stands there, in front of the open fridge, for three minutes, trying to find a solution for his insomnia in the leftovers of the chicken.

The smell reminds him of Seonghwa once again, making him wrinkle his nose. After closing the door, he retraces his steps back to the room in seconds. His body falls into the mattress, sigh escaping his lips — he wants to scream, but it's almost 3 AM and Wooyoung is sleeping, and even when he deserves it for fuelling his thoughts to the maximum, San is still _nice_ enough to muffle it on his pillow.

The clocks strikes 4 AM quicker than he thought.

"Is there any law in the friendship world that forces you to like the partner of one of your friends?" San mumbles next morning, half sleeping over the table of the education cafeteria, sun kissing his eyelids in a relaxing way, almost like being in heaven. All his body feels weak, heavy limbs and stinging eyes. His chest moves slowly, not falling asleep as the murmur surrounding him gets bigger as the students finish their classes and sit down to enjoy a coffee or a cigarette.

"What," Minho stops everything he's doing — San can't actually see him, face buried on the soft fabric of his sweater, but for the way he was just trying to explain Hansol how he got his _newly _piercing done, he prefers to just _not know_ — and frowns (San knows). "Are any of you dating? And you didn't tell me?"

"Dude, you know I'd walk around with a _I'm taken _banner," Hansol answers back.

Minho retorts something with a big laugh, sound of skin hitting skin filling the place after a second (they high fived, San wonders). "Nice, man!"

"What's up?" San can feel a finger digging on one of his cheeks, Daehyun voice sounding so close. He guessed she moved closer to him, leaving the two idiots behind.

San moves slowly, stretching his arms above his head, back finally meeting the backrest of the chair. It's almost 11 AM, the four of them skipping classes — not something San likes to do frequently, but today is special. And he had no proper sleep, so tired not even the morning shower helped him to snap back into reality. He hoped the sun helped him to spark again (with no success).

There's a lot of things going on his mind right now.

"Wooyoung is asking Seonghwa out," he mumbles, biting down his lower lip, words meaning it only for Daehyun, yet he might have talked a little bit louder than expected.

Next of him, Daehyun parts lips bewildered, Minho and Hansol stop his chattering to fix their eyes on them. San sighs. Obviously, he had talked about Seonghwa. All his theatre friends are nothing but that, friends he met on the theatre club. He still has his friends from the degree, the ones he met on his first day and the ones he got drunk with first. So, when he was wasted on Minho's couch after the mandatory _finals are over let's get wasted_ party of last year, he ended up talking about how much he wanted to punch Seonghwa. And Minho, curious — or just being busy body —, asked for more about that Seonghwa dude of his theatre company. (San had no problems on spilling everything).

"Seonghwa the hot fuckboy?" Minho's cheeky smile grows slowly, curving his lips first and taking over his whole face in a few seconds, eyes piercing San.

"Seonghwa, the bully," Hansol shakes his head a little, frowning at Minho's fast _how you dare say that? Have you seen his face?_ retort. "I did, moreover, I found him in a party once last year and he looked at me like I was a piece of trash."

"That's his normal way of looking at people," San says. "But yeah, that Seonghwa."

"Weren't they fuck buddies?" Daehyun asks, a smidgen of curiosity shining on her eyes, causing Minho to snort next to her.

That, San also told them that. They are his only friends aside from the others, and Mingi already knows about what they do on the dressing room. He needs to tell people that would actually feel the same as him an not laugh because is _funny._

"No strings attached, right? That doesn't happen not even in the movies," Minho moves his head from side to side, arms crossed and the expression of someone who has seen a lot of things painted on his face. "People doesn't realise how powerful sex is. Skin against skin, soft touches or harsh one, whatever you like. Moans, weird faces, and _fluids._ Even if it's only a friend with benefits, you know, at the end of the day you're gonna have to trust the person sucking your dick. Or your pussy," he adds with a smile, poking his tongue at Daehyun.

"Are you saying you can't enjoy sex without feelings?" Obviously, is Daehyun the one asking, eyebrow arched and that expression already glowing on her lips, same one she made every time Minho was wrong on something (which was pretty frequent).

"No, you can enjoy it," he smiles, just to add a second later, "you _will_ enjoy it for sure, I have no doubts. But in the end, we have a heart, we can't ignore the fact a person is rubbing our back or using our shampoo in the morning. Not to talk about the kisses. That's, _man_, intimate."

Daehyun rolls her eyes. "My fuck buddies never rub my back because I kick them out right after the sex. And, oh boy, if I find them using my shampoo," she closes her fist, "they'll have to try _this_."

"Well, that's you, _heartless bitch,_ but Seonghwa does sleep there, right?" He asks, staring directly at San, who can only nod a little. "Bet they rub each other's backs."

It's not a secret Seonghwa likes to spend the night there after having sex. And San always find him in the bathroom the morning after. It's also a fact Wooyoung always seems to be in such a good mood the days after that. San bites his lower lip: it doesn't seem to be a one sided thing. Maybe they do rub their backs to sleep or tell each other little stories of their childhood.

Maybe it started as only sex at first but, as Minho said, skin against skin ended up being strongest. Seonghwa seems to enjoy it way too much.

He gulps.

"You are okay, Sani," Daehyun speaks again, finally moving on from Minho's speech about how his parents used to be fuck buddies and twenty years later they're married (and rubbing each other's backs). "It's Wooyoung the one dating him, not you."

"Wouldn't I sound like a dickhead if I tell him I _don't like_ his boyfriend?" San stops, both hands on the table. "Because I don't think I can pretend to like him on my apartment, or, you know," he shrugs.

_Seeing how they kiss. _

"You will," Hansol intervenes, adding with a sigh, "and Wooyoung will get mad at you. Because when you are in love, the way your brain works changes. My sister told me about that but I forgot, anyway, what I am trying to say is that you can't change the fact you would sound like a selfish bitch to him," he rolls his eyes, stealing one cheese chip from Minho. "I remember dating this girl back in high school, and her friend hated me so much they stopped being friends. Which it was a shame, because we were fourteen and we lasted one month."

"Dude, we don't have time for a big ass lecture," Minho elbows him, making Hansol to roll his eyes and take another chip.

"Okay, so. _Yeah_, you're not the one dating him," he starts. "He has to accept it, that he is the only one that needs to like Seonghwa. If he doesn't, he will end up being the dickhead."

They remain silent for a while, conversation slowly dying. Hansol words float around his brain for hours.

Still, San doesn't seem to relax after that, unable to concentrate on the only class he decides to go, Wooyoung still rumbling around his mind. He can't help but feel like a bad person, the most heartless horrible bad bitch, because he wants Seonghwa to reject him.

(Maybe he starts drinking way before the party starts).

—

San can't stand how Wooyoung changes four times before deciding it's not the shirt what's making him uncomfortable but the pants. He asks for more time, stupid smile painted on his face, running back into his room. And San opens another can of beer as he shrinks on the couch. On one hand, he feels so pissed about the whole situation, but on the other one he just feels like shit: Wooyoung is his friend and yet, here he is, wishing for the worse.

Friends are supposed to be happy about their friends dating, right? It's not even like he feels jealous, is just like the only thought of Wooyoung dating Seonghwa makes his flesh burn. He takes a big sip.

He arrived home by lunch time, deciding to just skip it with the friends to not have to look neither at Wooyoung nor Seonghwa without clenching his jaws to the point of hurting himself, just to find Wooyoung there. Too excited to eat on the cafeteria he also skipped and went to the apartment. Fantastic.

They shared the most awkward lunch — at least, for San, Wooyoung hadn't a problem to talk about his day, happiness bubbling on his voice. It made San a little bit sad.

Words are still rambling on his mind, making him dizzy to the point of getting a small stomachache. Wooyoung needs to accept that friends, sometimes, can't stand boyfriends — yet that doesn't mean he won't be sounding like a total douchebag and that Wooyoung might just tell him to stop their friendship.

It was always like that: Wooyoung asking why he couldn't just accept Seonghwa and keep on living, and that was when there weren't feelings involved. San feels like he is about to lose everything. Wooyoung, their friendship, and maybe all their group of friends because who wants to be friends with an immature kid?

"Ready!" Wooyoung jumps into the living room, just when he is about to open his third can of beer, wearing a pair of tight black jeans that mold perfectly to his legs and a white vest shirt. Two buttons unbuttoned and messy hair, eye makeup _on point_ and cologne, a lot of cologne. He is ready to play. "Let's go?"

With a slow movement, San leaves the can on the desk and stands up, fixing his pretty normal and plain purple shirt, sweeping the sweat of his hands on his baggy jeans. He would be lying if he says he isn't a little tipsy when Yeosang opens the door for them.

—

They sing for Yunho when Hongjoong brings the cake into the small living room. It's a strawberry and chocolate one, San's favorite. There's quite a lot of people there — there's them, Yunho's dance crew, all the theatre members, a lot more of people Yunho doesn't get to introduce him because there's another couple knocking at the door —, and it makes San a little bit suffocated (nothing to do with the amount of alcohol on his body by 9 P.M).

Yunho blows the candles and slowly — very slowly — opens all the gifts, lips parting in amazement every time, thanking everyone with the same energy — from Mingi's Harry Potter wand to Jongho's coupon for a free taco. Mayhaps it's the alcohol, or it's the just love, because San can feel butterflies punching his stomach.

(He bites the inside of his cheek when Yunho hugs him, hands rubbing his back, thanking him for the _amazing bath kit_ he found on the last minute).

After that, the party keeps on going until late in the night.

San doesn't know what time it is when he crash in a free spot on the couch, next to someone he recognizes as Yeosang playing with his phone, neither he knows how many cups he has drank by then. Eight? Maybe. Everything feels far and he wants to laugh, cry and punch some walls. Everything at the same time. At least, he was able to eat three pieces of cake — his, Yeosang because he is again on a stupid diet and Wooyoung, too nervous to even eat (he cleaned his sweaty hands on San's jeans, gross).

"Have you heard?" San mumbles, hand falling hard on Yeosang's thigh, making the boy squeal. "Wait, of course you have. You are like, hmm, a gossip king."

Yeosang frowns at him. "What?"

His voice sounds far, being overlapped by the loud music — _is that Mingi singing to One Thing by One Direction from the top of Yunho's dining table? _— and San's own thoughts. There's a lot of noise inside his mind to be that drunk. Every cup trying to silence it with no success, apparently. It's making it louder.

"You find out things," he groans, head resting on Yeosang's shoulder. "Like me and Yunho, or Hongjoong being a dom."

"Yunho and me," Yeosang corrects.

"You like Yunho too?"

When he moves, gaze searching for Yeosang, he only finds a smile dancing on his lips.

"No," he breathes, one hand on San's hair, putting it back his ear with such care San can't help but rest his cheek on his palm. "And I don't think Hongjoong is a dom," he laughs.

"He looks like one," San babbles, closing his eyes, enjoying the way Yeosang's thumb circles his skin. "Have you seen him today? He was dressed like a b-boy."

"E-boy," Yeosang corrects, getting a "As if I care" in response. He pinches San's cheek, making him groan. "Sani you are drunk, is so cute."

San nods. He is very drunk, and when he is drunk he likes to cling onto people (he also tends to do a lot of things he later regret, like the story of his first tattoo). Yeosang knows that after two years of friendship, allowing him to crawl on top of him and hide his face on the crook of his neck: it smells like vanilla and a little bit like vodka. San closes his eyes, letting Yeosang softly play with his hair.

"How did you find out?" He says directly on his skin, breath tickling, after a couple minutes with that question bugging on his mind. He doesn't care about Hongjoong and the lots of clothes and rings he is wearing. He has other things on mind.

"About what, exactly?"

San bites his lower lip, making a pause.

"Yunho," his voice breaks a little, hidden by Mingi's loud screams. "What did I do for you to say '_oh, he is totally head over heels for him_'"?

"You just look at him like you want to hold his hand," Yeosang starts slow, fingers moving alongside his back. "And, I don't know, I like to observe. I can see how your feet always point at him when we are standing in a group, or how you always fight with Mingi to sit next to him. Or the way you are the only one laughing at his jokes, c'mon San, they are so lame. It's not love though, but not difficult to see," Yeosang's body moved beneath him as he shrugs.

San doesn't even remember when he fell for Yunho, even if it is not love. It happened in a blink of an eye, so fast it's kinda scary how they got there. He likes Yunho, his hands can't stop shaking. But he can't put it into words. His mind is a mess.

"Do you think it's time for confess?"

The question floats around.

"Yunho—" Yeosang stops, teeth biting down his tongue as if he almost said something he shouldn't. It bugs San for a second, falling deep on his subconscious after that. "Yeah, you should. It's time to," a pause, Yeosang's fingers stop in the middle of his back. "It's time to move on."

San purses his lips together in discomfort, hands digging on the couch. He meets Yeosang's eyes again, this time being a little more elusive. San wrinkles his nose. He doesn't understand what is that supposed to mean at all. _Move on from what?_

After a long pause, San finally speaks again, tongue meeting his lips more than five times in just a few seconds.

"Wooyoung is confessing to Seonghwa," he says, finally dropping the bomb. He lost track of Wooyoung after they cut the cake, and he doesn't even remember seeing Seonghwa. Still, the two of them didn't left his mind, not even for a second. San wonders if Wooyoung confessed, if Seonghwa kissed him in front of everyone while San drank his sixth cup. If they just went into the bathroom to celebrate or left the party instead. In front of him, Yeosang feels blurry, moving fast in front of San's eyes. However, he catches the glimpse of surprise that shakes his face. For the way he opens his lips, Yeosang didn't have a clue about it until now. "He told me yesterday. He got feelings and all that shit. And Seonghwa is going to live in my apartment now so I will have to live with Mingi who also has a fucking fuck buddy."

San puckers his lips in discomfort, proceeding to make a sad grin just a second later, tears starting to crowd on his eyes. When he talks again — being conscious of how Yeosang is still looking at him, lips pressed together and eyes wide open, almost like he knows something San doesn't — he feels his mouth dry, throat sore and a pinch on his heart, like his whole body is telling him to just surrender to the alcohol running on his veins and cry.

"It bothers me," he starts, containing a sob. "And I don't know why. Wooyoung is my friend and I love him, yet it makes me so mad that he wants to spend his live with Seonghwa. I know it's because I hate him but… It shouldn't be like that, right? I should just feel happy they would be so in love that Seonghwa won't even care on bothering me but I can't. I don't want them to date. And it's making me feel horrible but, Sangie, the thought of Seonghwa rejecting him makes me so happy… I'm the worst friend ever."

He makes another pause, waiting for Yeosang to say something — he doesn't.

"I literally had 4 hours of sleep because I couldn't stop thinking about it, and then it made me think of Yunho and how I am literally a coward and I can't tell him the truth. Maybe the real reason I am mad it's because Wooyoung is being brave and I am just a wuss. Maybe I _hate_ both that he is confessing to Seonghwa and I am not making any progress with Yunho."

_Or maybe is the alcohol,_ he thinks, eyeing the cup on the table before feeling like throwing up. He gulps, trying to pass through the lump on his throat and keeping his tears away because he isn't crying on a party. _That would be lame._

So he just sits down and intertwines his own fingers, waiting for something — a reply from Yeosang or the face of Yunho, as it's been a long since he disappeared from his own party.

"First of all, I'm pretty sure Wooyoung won't kick you out of the apartment, you haven't seen the way he looks at you with so much adoration," that doesn't make San feel better, moreover, it makes him want to die as Wooyoung is always thinking on other's happiness, yet San is thinking only on himself. "Second, how are you so sure Seonghwa is not rejecting Wooyoung?"

San scratches his own skin.

"Because."

"It must be something, you know," he insists, fingers drumming on San's leg. "Seonghwa never dated anyone in the two years we've known him, and Wooyoung is just a friend with benefits. A lot of college students have sex just because and refuse to be in a relationship."

San frowns, vision blurry. "Still."

"Still what?"

For a second, it feels like Yeosang is pushing him, trying to get into his deep feelings or _whatever_. It's a Yeosang thing, wanting to know everything about everyone. And right now, it feels _strange._ But San also feels like he is underwater.

"Wooyoung is amazing," he admits after a while, shrugging. "People fall in love with him like everyday, he just has… _that thing_, and Seonghwa has seen a lot more of him than us so it's just obvious he likes him," he remembers Minho's words from this morning, about skin against skin and rubbing backs. San knows Seonghwa has see a lot from Wooyoung. "Also, he has been a lot over him since the rehearsals started," he takes a deep breath, remembering how Seonghwa spent almost a week sleeping with Wooyoung and how the hickies never left his skin. "It's either he is so grossed out of kissing me or that he loves him. Or both, I'm sure it's both."

"You know, I also know Seonghwa's secret," Yeosang blurts, so low San has problems hearing him. He raises a brow first, shaking his head right after. "I can tell you. Only if you want."

Seonghwa's secret. Not gonna lie, San feels tempted, fingers moving fast, nails hitting each other, saliva filling his mouth. Yet, he feels his throat sore. San shakes his head again.

He is not interested.

"I don't wanna know," his voice gets lost in the music, standing up right after without saying another word as the tears start falling without an actual logical reason.

He ends up, actually, crying at a party — without a logical reason, as it's everything at once and nothing at all, leaving him alone with nothing more than his own thoughts. It's dangerous.

—

San wanders around the apartment for a while, feeling his head less and less dizzy as he walks further from the noise and makes his way to the rooftop. He is carefully, going to the bathroom and washing his face before putting a feet on the stairs. His reflection on the mirror is indecipherable, a lot of things rambling at the back of his mind, mixing with the loud music and the laugh of Ryujin somewhere in the ocean of people — not an ocean, but the living room is so small that just ten people there make it suffocating. He is drunk, but not _that _drunk. His body moves slowly and maybe if he closes his eyes, he would fall sleep in a second, but only that. Not drunk enough to do something stupid — he hoped.

He can feel the chill of the air kiss his cheeks when he finally leaves the hot atmosphere of the apartment and climbs closer to the sky. His hands are shaky, but he believes it's because of the nervousness and not the alcohol remaining on his bloodstream. It's been at least one? Maybe two hours since he talked with Yeosang, refusing every single cup people offered him and trying to keep his eyes open because he needs to find Yunho. And tell him. And _wow_, he is dead nervous.

Rejection is breathing on his neck, slowly biting his skin. _Sigh. _Yunho never really acted like he liked him back, and San still has a long way before settling down his own feelings — it is a crush or it is something more? Do they want the same? Does Yunho act the same on the club as he acts home?

There's a lot of questions to ask and San knows: that there's also a lot of chances of getting a no (like, really a lot). He is scared, but Yeosang said it. _It's time to move on._ From what? He isn't sure, however, he can't spend all his life hiding his feelings. He wants to put a foot on the stage and feel calm, not caring at all about kissing Seonghwa because Yunho is waiting for him on the front row, ready to give him a thousand more — and because Seonghwa will be dating Wooyoung, but that's not important now. That's what San wishes to happen. Nonetheless, if the answer is a no, he would he able to kiss Seonghwa without feeling a weird sensation on his stomach. Either way he would be _moving on._

For that he goes to the roof, trying to get some fresh air before actually going to search for Yunho.

The rooftop is barely illuminated by the moon, not big enough to have a place to hide, for that reason San is able to see the silhouette of two persons there as soon as he puts a foot inside. He quickly recognizes Yunho, giving him his back, face slightly illuminated. The other person remains a mystery, soft sobs escaping from their lips.

San freezes on the spot, hands still touching the railing, rough texture under his fingers, heart racing as he feels he is invading some personal affair. Yet, he is unable to move, eyes fixed in how Yunho's body move. Hand flying to the other person's cheeks, lips pressing to his skin in a delicate kiss that makes the other person to cry even louder, fingers taking a grip of Yunho's shirt, bringing him closer. There's something sounding on San's mind, like a fire alarm. The sound is so loud he ends up getting sucked by it, not being able to get what emergency he is facing.

Yunho presses his forehead against the other's person one, both of them engulfed by the shadows now. It makes his skin burn, blood congealing on his veins, not moving.

"It's gonna be okay," he can hear Yunho, voice floating around so soft it makes his own heart swell, just to break in a second when the boy leans in, taking the other person on his arms, kissing his cheek again.

No. San shakes his head, doing the most to not make any noise as he almost jumps back into the stairs — spoiler: he makes a lot of noise, but if Yunho noticed, he doesn't goes after him.

It wasn't a kiss on the cheek.

—

First reaction on his mind, while he thought of Yunho rejecting him — back on his mom's house, laying on his back and looking at the shapes of the clouds with his grandfather — is crying.

Everyone cries after rejection. Well, maybe not everyone, but San doesn't considers himself the type of person to get mad and start a fight. He always thought of himself as the emotional type, for that he likes theatre so much. He thought crying would come first, because even if he knew it forehand, no one is made of stone.

As he crosses the room, going upstairs (right where the rooms are, where Yunho told them to _not_ go and hence, the only place without people in that house), he waits for the tears. But they never come, not even he feels like crying. It's most like he feels defeated: he knew about it and yet he couldn't do anything to change that fate. It's sad, not the type of sad that would make him brawl his eyes out, but the one that leads him to the bathroom.

After turning on the lights, he locks himself there, back pressed to the door, hands on his chest. It's hard. And it hurts.

But there's no tears, there's no scream, there's not madness. His body falls dead, limbs heavy and head dizzy again, chest being pressed hard, air not being able to fill his lungs. Just as if he lost a war, way before even start it.

He didn't have a chance to say his feelings out loud, Yunho was already kissing another person. And maybe Yunho had been kissing another person for months, or even years. Looking back at his memories, Yunho was always a nice kid, he was the best friend he could ever ask for. He was kind, attentive and loyal. But he also was silent, never talking more than necessary, never showing his feelings.

San can't be mad at him, maybe he feels a little happy that Yunho is happy. And that thought only is enough to punch him in the stomach, clenching his jaws so hard it hurts, trying to not scream. Because he wants to scream now, and cry, and feel sad and mad and everything at the same time. He is happy for Yunho, the person he _likes_, but he can't be happy for Wooyoung, his _friend. _

And why? Just why his brain is that selective?

He lets his legs fall with a loud crash, sigh escaping from his pressed lips.

"Having a hard night, I see."

San jumps on the spot, body shaken by the sudden low voice coming from the bathtub. He thought he was alone.

The curtain moves, revealing a person sitting there. His eyes immediately fall on his face: of course, it has to be _Seonghwa_.

_This has to be a fucking joke. When is this night ending?_

There's a bottle of whisky on one of his hands, black hair pulled up exposing his forehead. Heavy makeup and sad eyes all over the place. It's the first time in the whole night he actually catches Seonghwa's image as he was as slippery as Yunho.

San chuckles. "Are you following me?"

"I was literally enjoying my time when you bursted here," Seonghwa rolls his eyes, making a pause to take another sip, Adam's apple moving along the beverage going through his throat. "Are you gonna cry now?"

"Fuck you," San mumbles, hands pressing to the cold floor, trying to stand up.

His legs feel shaky. He is tired.

"Are you that drunk?" Seonghwa asks with a chuckle as if San isn't able to see the already empty bottle next to the bathtub accompanying the one he has wrapped around his fingers and the ones popping from that plastic bag. It looks like Seonghwa was having his own little party. "C'mon, you can stay here if you want."

San doesn't feel that drunk anymore but he stops right with a hand on the doorknob. There's a party at the other side of that door, and maybe there's also a Yunho, and for sure there's a lot of things he doesn't want to confront. Things more important than the actual Seonghwa scrambled in a bathtub at almost 4 AM. Drunk Seonghwa.

Maybe he is nicer than sober Seonghwa.

"Give me that," San demands, feet slowly finding they way to the tub, reaching one hand in his direction. He gulps, not sure if he could be asking for that or not. Seonghwa stares at him, as strong as always, raising an eyebrow before actually moving — one elbow helping him stand up a little, arm shaking as he holds the bottle in the air, pointing his direction. San takes a sip right away, feeling the alcohol burn his throat. Painfully, he is punched on the stomach, coughs filling the room.

"Don't you dare throwing up on me, or I'll kill you," Seonghwa grunts, eyes slightly closing as he hugs himself. Yet, San doesn't miss the smile that curves his lips for a second.

San catches another thing: Seonghwa was drinking alone in the bathroom, who knows for how many hours. And, aside for the fact that there's no signs of Wooyoung, the older boy doesn't look specially happy. For the first time on his life, San feels like wanting to know more about Seonghwa — or just about tonight Seonghwa and why he looks so sad —, taking a tiny step and entering the bathtub. Seonghwa shrinks without even opening his eyes and San takes another big sip before resting his back on the bathtub floor.

They don't talk, being it the weirdest experience because, _what are we doing? what I am doing?_

San isn't sure of how many time passes until Seonghwa speaks again, hoards voice filling the small bathroom, but he almost emptied the bottle by them. Lips burning, brain loose.

"What are you running away from?" The older sighs, breaking San's train of thoughts, slowy moving his foot to kick him. They are too close in that tub, but after kissing him because of the stupid rehearsals, it's not like San feels like invading his space. "Or _who_?"

San wants to laugh, ending the whole bottle with a sip instead. The taste of alcohol fills his mouth, glued to his tongue, fast flowing through his veins and warming his body. He sinks deeper, one foot crashing onto one of Seonghwa's thigh. He receives another kick, this time closer to his crotch. San groans. "Dude, I swear to God if you—"

Seonghwa moves his foot, but not without a giggle — San wants to believe is a giggle, but it sounds more malicious.

"Are you gonna answer? I'm getting sleepy," Seonghwa speaks again, yawning mid sentence.

San bites his lower lip, fingers playing with the etiquette of the bottle.

"Someone," he babbles, fingers drumming now on the glass of the bottle. "Someone rejected me. Kinda."

He shrugs, not even thinking is Seonghwa the one he's telling that about. It's like he doesn't care anymore. He just wants to keep on drinking until he is wasted.

"What about you?"

"Rejection too," Seonghwa grumbles after a while, peeking through his lashes. His words catch San attention, body moving to face him correctly. "I was the one rejecting though."

With a shrug, Seonghwa moves, bending over the bathtub to search something inside the plastic bag. He turns again with a ron bottle on his hand. San frowns, _where is he getting so much alcohol from? And why?_

(_Why_ is the most important question right now)

Yet he feels happy to see another full bottle, skin itching at the thought of the warm alcohol going down his throat.

He offers San the bottle after giving it the first sip, new taste on his tongue. It hits him then, lips still pressed to the glass, what Seonghwa just said. Brain working slow, weird feeling on his stomach.

"You rejected Wooyoung?" Is just a whisper, eyes flying to Seonghwa.

The boy stays still for what it looks like an eternity, in silence — is the most silence he had ever hear from Seonghwa. Incredible, to say. It's also the first time they talk, not fighting, just having a normal conversation. He waits for Seonghwa to snap back at him, but his voice is so soft San almost melts.

"How do you know that?"

Seonghwa's eyes, on the other hand, is as cold as he remembers. Piercing him. Making him feel intimidated, gaze falling to his hands.

"Wooyoung told me, about confessing to you," another sip, putting the bottle in between Seonghwa's legs. San speaks as if he don't care, as if he didn't spend a whole night thinking about _that,_ pretending that's not the reason he is sitting on a bathtub with him, sharing a bottle, at what? 3 2 AM? "Why did you reject him?"

The older boy stays still, looking at him, hand slowly moving alongside the long of the bottle. San feels his head dizzy again, tingle on his lower back, thoughts punching the hell out of his sanity. _Why? _And _why he looks down then? _And _did Seonghwa like Wooyoung for real? _And _Isn't the faucet sticking to his back?_

It's feels like years when Seonghwa talks again, voice raspy overlapping to the muffled music coming from outside the bathroom.

"I don't like him," San bites the inside of his cheek, hating the bubbles of happiness that burst of his stomach. _Seonghwa doesn't like Wooyoung._ He feels relieved, air leaving his lungs with a loud gasp. "Romantically. The sex is great— I mean, _was_. He was crying, I don't think he wants something to do with me now."

Happiness vanishes as soon as it appeared, realizing something important: as much as he hates the idea of Wooyoung dating Seonghwa, the fact of Wooyoung being heartbroken never really appeared on his mind and now that it did, it's making him feel more horrible than he was feeling before. It's like it's not Wooyoung at all the one on his mind.

It's Seonghwa, and only Seonghwa.

"Then why," San speaks in a whisper.

"Why what?"

"Why giving him hopes?" He looks up, biting hard his lower lip.

Looking back, Wooyoung made him dinner, he _cooked _for him because he was so excited, so sure things would go well. He did the dishes and even changed four times just to look perfect. In all those hours before the party, Wooyoung didn't look nervous as if he was waiting for a rejection; he was just nervous because they started out as sex with no feelings, but feelings made their way to their hearts. Kind of.

For some reason, Wooyoung was so sure everything would end up well. Even when San hated the idea of them dating, when it brought him a sleepless night and hours of dirty thoughts eating him alive, this is different. This is not Seonghwa rubbing Wooyoung's back at all.

"I did not," he groans after a while. "I always told him we couldn't be more than friends. And of course, I like him, but—"

"But what?" San attacks, finally moving forward. His head is dizzy again, making his vision blurry for a second, heavy limbs and dry tongue. And he doesn't know why he is so mad.

Their knees collide, body almost falling over Seonghwa — being held by the waist with one hand, the other still wrapped around the neck of the bottle. San squints, not being able to see through him (nor see him, to be honest).

"I can't tell you," Seonghwa just whispers, breath tickling San's skin.

He frowns, getting even closer, sitting down directly over his legs. "Don't start now with your bullshit," he spits, making Seonghwa rose a brow in confusion. "Wooyoung is my friend, and yeah, I hated the fact he was gonna ask you out. I hated it so much I couldn't sleep and now I am drinking in a bathtub with you. I hate you so much," he ends, almost in a whisper, closing his eyes. And he see stars at the other side of his eyelids. _They're pretty._ "Still, I want to know. Wooyoung was so sure about you, I don't know when he decided he liked you but he does, and he was so excited. What's on your mind to reject him?"

San doesn't open his eyes, feeling his whole body shake.

"I like another person," San opens his eyes to find Seonghwa close, lips pressed, holding his breath.

"You were fucking with Wooyoung."

"Well, the person I like doesn't like me back."

San shakes his head, feeling dizzy. "Then you were using Woo, that's so shitty, I'm—"

"He was my friend with benefits, San, goddamit," Seonghwa snaps, abruptly moving beneath him. If it now wasn't by the hand on his lower back, firmly pressed, he would have hit his head with the bathtub floor. "I wasn't looking for a relationship, I was just trying to forget about _you_ and your stupid ass and okay, yeah, there's better coping mechanisms but can you blame me? At least I'm not hurting myself. I didn't want to hurt Wooyoung, never, and I'm so sorry he fell for someone like me. For real."

They are close, and San can't breath. He tries to keep his eyes open, fighting with the amount of alcohol — a lot big — on his blood trying to take control of his body. Because of everything Seonghwa said, he only got one.

"Why me?" He asks, hands flying to his shoulders so he doesnt fall.

Seonghwa sighs, pulling his head back. "Why me you asks," a laugh, a little bit sad. When he turns his face again to San, his eyes are a little shiny. "Because it's you the one I like. Fucking idiot."

They stay silent for what it looks like an eternity before the alcohol in San wins the battle and shuts his brain down.

He presses both his hands on Seonghwa's cheeks, pulling him closer and pressing their lips together feverishly. His mouth dies on the spot, forehead pressed, but not moving at all, almost as if all the indications stopped there and he didn't know what to do next.

San doesn't even know what he is doing, mind blank, taste of alcohol on his tongue, lips burning. He felt a spark on his stomach, heart racing, and all his cells screamed at him to just lean in and kiss Seonghwa. And he did. Maybe because he knew that was a great way of shutting him up, maybe because he was feeling like doing it. It doesn't matter why, but now what?

He doesn't need to worry about that when Seonghwa moves a hand, fingers threading on his hair, pulling him even closer and lips finally moving. Fast. Desperate. Nothing similar at the kisses they shared during rehearsal, and San is afraid to admit this is three hundred times better, making his stomach twirl, lips parting to let Seonghwa's tongue peek inside his mouth.

His free hand moves from San's waist to his back, fingers directly touching his skin. Is burning, San feels like he is burning. His fingers move to Seonghwa's hair, getting tangled there, trying to get closer, and closer, and closer. Even if it's physically impossible. Seonghwa laughs on his mouth, vibrations travelling around his body, finding his desperation funny — San guesses —, biting down his lower lip just a second after.

San whines, arousal taking all over his body, as well as the need to breath as his lungs are also on fire. He gaps — they both do —, mouth open in search of air. The taste of alcohol is burning on his tongue as well with soft of strawberries: Seonghwa's lipbalm. He gulps, back pressed to the floor of the bathtub before he can realize. Warm lips on his neck, trailing a way of kisses along every centimetre of exposed skin. His back arches when teeth finally saludate him, sinking on the meaty part at the end of his jaw.

_That will leave a mark_, San thinks, but doesn't stops him.

For a reason he doesn't quite understands, he is enjoying this. The way his body is pressed with such warmth, how his skin burns or bubbles of air explode on his chest, making him gasp for air every two seconds, how every touch sends an electrical shock to his dorsal spine. He fills like he is free, for a second.

And he wants to cry.

Seonghwa stops biting his skin to focus on his mouth again, lips molding so well it's crazy San hadn't realized earlier. "You won't whine now?" Seonghwa's voice is raspy, making San's body shake with a new wave of arousal, fingers curling. He remembers the last rehearsal and now he wants to laugh, one hand sinking on the tango of black hair above him. He had power, a lot more of power he thought he'd have.

It was exciting, but showing how much he was liking would break his brat image. Even as drunk as he is, he is still strong enough to keep that facade, biting down his tongue to shut a moan. Seonghwa groans over his skin.

But keeps on kissing him.

San loses track of time in a matter of seconds, both intoxicated by the alcohol and the way their bodies rub together. Maybe it passed only an hour since San ran away from Yunho to find Seonghwa, maybe it's been hours since they started kissing. The only thing he knows is that he doesn't want to stop, because thinking of Yunho and the white ceiling of his bathroom isn't enough to make him cry, but it still hurts. And, obviously, making out with his _enemy _is not the best coping mechanism, but that's what he needs.

To feel desired, even for a night, or just a couple hours.

He lets Seonghwa slid a hand under his shirt, hot palm caressing every inch of skin. It feels good, so good it makes San move, searching for more contact.

"San," Seonghwa says his name for the first time, maybe for the first time in years. It makes San wonder. Has Seonghwa ever called him by his name? Or he hated him to that point? No, wait. Does Seonghwa hate San as much as he thinks?

"What?" He answers, breathless.

He raises one of his legs, wrapping it around Seonghwa's waist, pulling him down just so their crotches touch. It hurts so bad.

"You are drunk. I am drunk, _we _are drunk."

"I learned the present tense in school, what the hell are you saying?" San retorts, rubbing their hips together, teeth biting hard his lip because it's just _not enough. _

Seonghwa moves, kneeling in front of him. "I won't do nothing more with you," he sentences.

San looks at him from behind, and finally he can see the regret painted on Seonghwa's face — as well as the smashed makeup and swollen lips. San stands up a little, Wooyoung's face falling hard on his brain then, punching him from inside.

_This was so wrong._

"Good idea," he mumbles.

Then there's again the urge of crying, and again, it's because of Seonghwa out of all people. He helps him get out of the bathtub without saying a thing, neither at how they just made out nor the boner San tries to hide without success (_Stupid baggy pants_).

He doesn't look at himself in the mirror, instead, he stares at Seonghwa once again, still on the bathtub. Looking ethereal.

"This was a mistake," he mutters, hand on the doorknob, waiting for Seonghwa to say the same. But he doesn't, he just nods and looks down, words not leaving his throat.

So is San the one leaving, chest swelling with a new mouthful of air.

He needs to find Yeosang.

—

Hangover never was this bad.

San has mixed memories of how the night ended. Amazingly, he was able to find Yeosang even when he had trouble walking straight. He doesn't remember what happened next not even which words they exchanged but next thing on his memory train is his face buried on the toilet, throwing up all the content of his stomach.

Someone — it has to be Yeosang because he doesn't remember anyone more — changed him into his pajamas and then he threw up again.

Then, he slept.

But not for a long time, having to wake up multiple times to run to the bathroom until there was nothing but bile coming out, making him all teary eyed and disgusted.

By the time he wakes up without the urge of throwing up, its four in the afternoon and he realizes he is tucked in Yeosang's king size bed. And his memory is so messed up he doesn't remember shit at first.

Everything comes slowly.

_Yunho already likes someone_.

San stands up, covering himself with the blankets before exiting the door and walking to the kitchen, where Yeosang is eating nothing more but french fries. He remembers the party, how he drank more than planned, how Yunho was kissing another person. He feels disgusted on the stomach, but more because of the alcohol than the pain of rejection.

Rejection.

_Seonghwa rejected Wooyoung. _

He sits in front of his friend, holding his face with a hand, moan escaping his lips, chapped and hurt. The only thought of that makes his head spin.

"Do you have medicine?" He asks hoarsely, dry throat punching him with every word.

"Already thought of that," Yeosang points to the counter, where a box of aspiring lays next to a big glass of water. San stands up again, feet meeting the cold floor again. "What stupid thing did you do yesterday?" Yeosang doesn't even care of tiptoeing, literally throwing himself into the pool. "Thought you stopped drinking but man, you came to me looking like a mess."

_Seonghwa was drinking on a bathtub. _

It's a vague memory, but he remembers Seonghwa on a bathtub. Dark hair and smoky eye makeup. Is blurred, but he remembers sharing a drink with him. Or maybe more than one.

"What did you do?" Yeosang pushes him. When San finally swallows the pill and takes a sit in front of him again, he is able to see how his lips are curved, teeth biting down, shoulders shrinking a little.

He also remembers what Yeosang told him.

"You knew Yunho didn't like me, right?" The words flow through his lips, falling between them with a loud crash. The air turns colder in a second, tense atmosphere breaking in. Yeosang doesn't say a thing at first, only takes a deep breath, back finally meeting the backrest. "I'll take that as a yes."

Yeosang shakes his head.

"Listen, Sani. In any way I'm trying to hurt you, okay?" He starts, one hand over the table, touching San with care. "Every single one of you has been driving me crazy since what? Two years?" He questions after a while, rolling his eyes in annoyance — or maybe it can be desperation. "You are so oblivious is crazy, where are we? In a stupid romantic drama?"

San snorts, abruptly crossing his arms. He doesn't know why, but he feels the need to protect himself. From everything. "Can you stop questioning things and just tell me what you know?"

"What I know," Yeosang raises a brow. "What do _you_ know exactly? Let's start from there first."

The way the memory hits him is enough for all his body to shrink on the chair, heart going slow at first, starting a race after a couple seconds. But, with who? He is alone.

_Yunho likes another person. Yunho kissed another person. Yunho was comforting another person. I remember Yunho's ceiling. What? _

Images start to mix on the back of his brain, like hanging frames from a bad movie only his grandma would remember. There's Yunho body line and his face, only illuminated by the moon. And there's also a person, bending over themselves, crying so bad San couldn't catch a glimpse of their face. But there's also the white ceiling, something warm covering all his body and a strong piercing feeling on his chest. He remembers a fire.

He imitates Yeosang, shaking his head — not a good idea at all, sparks of pain taking over his brain.

"Yunho was…" he stops to take a breath, air hurting him as it flows through his nose. "Yunho was kissing someone. On the roof. It was quick but, I don't know, he was too close. I saw. He seemed to care a lot about that person."

"Did you see who it was?"

San shakes his head no. At first he keeps his gaze on his dead fingers, way too scared to look up. Because he knows. That Yeosang knows. But he doesn't wanna know _who_.

"I'm sorry you had to find it that way, Sani," Yeosang's voice sounds soft, San doesn't care. He shrugs. Of course Yeosang knew. "Who did you fuck with then?"

That time, his voice doesn't sound that soft, making San snaps his head so fast he is seeing sparks again for ten seconds. But he doesn't care.

"What?"

Yeosang arches a brow at him, confused that time.

"You had sex with someone," he says, so sure of his words.

_I don't remember. _

"No, I don't," yet he isn't even sure if it's true. His head is a mess and there's black walls everywhere, keeping him away from the truth. But if he fucked with someone, he would remember.

Right?

He closes his eyes again, trying to go through all the memories of last night. But his head hurts like crazy and he has deep mental gaps, nothing tied.

"Dude," Yeosang sighs. "You appeared with your hair a mess and your pants unbuttoned," _Oh no, fuck no. _"And the hickies. Have you even looked at your neck."

_No, tell me it's not true._

"I'm not nagging at you," Yeosang is quick to adding. "I'm just worried. At first I thought it was Yunho, but then you couldn't stop crying. And if you saw him kissing _him_… Please tell me you didn't do something stupid."

San stopped listening a while ago, fingers crawling to his neck. He finds pain.

It takes him less than a second to jump from the chair — almost faceplanting because of both the hangover and the blanket tangled on his feet — and run to the bathroom.

His face is the first thing that welcomes him: he looks like crap. Red eyes, eyebags, chapped lips and pale skin that remarks even more what's on his neck: big, red bite marks. He can recognize it well, getting closer to the mirror. Someone bite him, everywhere, making a mess of his neck.

San wants to cry, and he doesn't break down there because his body is already moving, knees sinking on the cold floor, fingers moving fast enough to open the toilet before throwing up. Bile again, burning his throat, strong taste filling his mouth.

"Hey," it's Yeosang again, rubbing his back and pulling his hair back. Staying there until the spasms stop. "You are burning, San," he says, almost like he is underwater, one hand on his forehead. "You should rest."

"I want to die," he manages to say, feeling nauseous just by the taste glued to his tongue. He coughs, closing his eyes.

_Why did I do that? _

Yeosang brings him a glass of water, and another one, and another, until the taste is finally gone like the content of his stomach.

_And why I can't remember with who? _

His mind freezes at Seonghwa again. They drank together, they talked about Wooyoung, and then the image goes dark. What he did after that, is gone.

"Do you want to talk about him?" Yeosang questions again, one hand still on his waist. After one minute of full silence, he tightens his fingers. "Or her?"

San never liked women that way, but he can't even know if it was a man or a woman. And it's making him dizzy again. He is an idiot.

"I'm gonna go home," he says instead. "I don't remember anything but—"

_This is so wrong._

"I will take you."

—

San is not even watching the program playing on the TV, too busy trying to tie all the loose ends to even pay attention, when Wooyoung storms in the apartment.

He throws the keys on the table, sniffing a little before realizing San is there. The younger freezes next to the door, gaze falling to the ground after a second. San remembers that.

_Wooyoung is not dating Seonghwa._

That makes him happy.

_But Seonghwa broke his heart._

That, that makes him grieve a little. Wooyoung is his friend, and looking at him now hurts, he looks devastated. Red eyes, swallowed. From crying.

San spent the rest of the day on the couch thinking. About the person he slept with, and why. Was it because of Yunho? He really got hooked up with a stranger just because he was heartbroken? He never was that type of person. It bugs him so much, fingers never leaving his neck.

Wooyoung never crossed his mind, but now, he's the only thing he can see.

"Where did you sleep?" San asks in a whisper, fingers taking a grip of the blanket covering his shoulders — Yeosang put it there before helping him shower.

At first, Wooyoung seems reluctant to speak, spitting everything after a while. "Yunho's. Too drunk to drive."

The boy moves, totally convinced to leave the living room and isolate himself on his room. And San makes a bad decision, yet he wants Wooyoung to trust him. To know he can tell him that, even if it's a topic he doesn't like that much.

So he pretends to know nothing. A total mistake.

"And Seonghwa? Why didn't you go with him?"

He waits.

For Wooyoung to break down and tell him everything, or maybe for him to just cry for hours until being able to speak properly. What he gets instead, is nothing he thought of getting.

Wooyoung snorts, sadly, but with a little bit of rage painting his tone. He is not facing San, and he feels thankful, because when he speaks, his voice is venomous.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you really that horrible?" He moves after that, black eyes piercing San. "I thought you were my friend but look at you, pretending like you don't know shit."

"Wha—"

"Don't play dumb, okay!" Wooyoung cuts him, tears making a way through his chin abruptly, hands moving like crazy. "You think I am an idiot? No, wait, you really considered me a friend or it was just a game you two had under my back?" He demands.

San remains silent, too many information being processed at the same time yet he is getting nothing. What is Wooyoung talking about? And why is he so mad? No clue at all. He blinks, leaving the couch because he suddenly feels way too small.

Wooyoung laughs, but then sobs into his own hands, body bending over itself with a sob. It breaks San's heart, but he is quickly shoved away when he tries to get close, hands reached in the air.

"Don't touch me!" The boy hisses, moving back. "All these months, you never really hated him, right?" San looks at him blankly. "And the only reason you were shocked when I told you I was gonna confess, was because you two were already on this, right? Fuck, I can't believe I fell for this."

San shakes his head, taking a step closer.

"Wooyoung," he starts, slowly. "I don't have a fucking clue about what you are talking about. What happened?"

Wooyoung stares at him for a whole minute before talking, voice piercing his heart.

"Seonghwa rejected me," he sobs, lips pressed tightly, shoulders shaking, and San knows. He lets his arms fall again, hitting his waist, hands turning into fists. He wants to say something, but there's nothing on his mind that can make that pain go away. It's Wooyoung the one moving again, chin pointing at him. "And he told me about you."

Wooyoung's eyes are fixed on his neck and it takes San ten seconds to understand. His hand fly to his neck, palm covering the red petals blooming on his skin, whiplash of pain taking over him.

_No._

Where did he go after drinking with Seonghwa? What happened after? Why was he searching for Yeosang?

What happened.

Wooyoung laughs again, but the tears hadn't stopped.

"As if I couldn't recognize that," he spits, venom on his tongue. "I thought we were friends. I really thought you loved me. But this was just a game, huh? I just don't know why you chose me, but you can fuck yourself, San," he twist on his heels, adding a "both of you can go to hell" before storming into his room.

San remains on the stop, feeling how his legs tremble. His hand slowly falls from his neck, knees meeting the floor.

And he finally remembers.

_It was Seonghwa. _

_Fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one cried, because I did.


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you wonder we're I've been (dying)  
HI, I'm so sorry this took me years :( but san's concept photos gave me the enough energy to write 6K words of, I'm sorry, a filler chapter.  
But hey this is necessary to understand chapter 7 and 8 hehe  
I hope you still like this and that you are having a wonderful holidays!!   
<3 <3 <3

Looking at Wooyoung hurts. 

After a week, San has started to only exit his room when everything is quiet on the other side of his wooden door, arriving home late at night and eating on his desk or curled up on his bed, listening.

Wooyoung cries a lot.

In silence, and that's what breaks San's heart the most. How he suffers alone, without relying on him. Because San hurt him, in a way or another, and Wooyoung refuses to even look at him on the eye. San is sinking on his own regret.

He hooked up with Seonghwa. Wooyoung knows it. Wooyoung  _ hates _ him.

(San kinda hates himself a little too, but there's no time for that, not when it's been seven whole days since Yunho's birthday and they haven't exchanged a single word.)

Wooyoung starts skipping rehearsals and soon, stomach shrinking at the only sight of Seonghwa, San is the one deciding he suddenly has a fever on Tuesday (he goes to a small coffee shop near the campus and asks for four strawberry milkshakes before he is feeling cramps) and a stomachache on Thursday (he spends the afternoon laying on the garden, looking at the sky and thinking).

He thinks a lot. 

First, about Wooyoung. His friend. He wants to reach a hand to him and help him out, tell him he is sorry even if he doesn't remember a thing. Talk about what's gotten on Wooyoung's mind. Whatever game he spitted on him that Saturday. San is hurt, yeah, but he’s also confused. Because he didn’t do a thing wrong. He was sad, he drank, but he never wanted to hurt Wooyoung.

Second, about Seonghwa. They did  _ it. _ He can't remember exactly how it went, or why he decided it would've been a good idea to suck his face inside Yunho's bathtub. Slowly, he gets more fragments of that night. How they shared two bottles of alcohol and how Seonghwa's lips burned on his skin more than the alcohol in his blood. Still, he can't remember everything and asking Seonghwa is not an option, because he can't look at him either.

Third, about Yunho. Yunho, that likes another person. It hurts so he tries to get his head out of that thought, coming all over again to the start.

Wooyoung. 

They find each other on the kitchen on Friday. Wooyoung is giving him his back, focused on the salad he is preparing for dinner, when San arrives from the gym. He is still wearing his earphones so he doesn't hear him, entering the kitchen in search of something to calm his angry stomach. 

He freezes in the middle of the room when Wooyoung's eyes fall on him. Dark. Angry. Yet, a little bit glassy, almost as if the only image of San's face makes him want to cry.  _ It breaks San's heart.  _

San thought about Wooyoung leaving the apartment, or even kicking San out of it. Two years living together, warm memories inside those walls sinking in cold water. But Wooyoung doesn't talk, doesn't do anything more than grieve alone.

He sniffles a little, picking his food and jumping outside of the kitchen as fast as he can. 

It leaves San standing alone in the middle of the kitchen, stomach shrinking again. He is not hungry anymore.

—

When he is feeling low, San likes to go to Mingi's room. He has a king size bed and a humidifier, along with a lot of cushions San loves to drown in. Also, Mingi's warmth always makes him feel better. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, the yearning creeps on his legs, making his chest swell with a lot of negative shit he can't — or shouldn't — contain for a long time.

He can't cry, not in the same house Wooyoung is mourning over his love life. He is nice enough to leave the apartment before the tears blurry his vision, back pressed to the front door.

He can't go to Mingi's neither, because Seonghwa is there. 

After a couple minutes, when he feels his legs again, he runs to the only place he feels comfortable now. When Jongho opens the door, as always, he doesn't questions him, he just moves aside so San can jump inside the apartment and crash on the couch. There's a Minecraft play paused on the TV.

"Why are you playing Minecraft?"

"Why are you running away from Seonghwa?" Jongho sits down on the floor, catching the control and restarting the game. He doesn't sound curious at all and San knows it's just a way of shutting him up.

San wrinkles his nose.

"I'm not running away. I just don't feel good."

"Yeosang saw you on Monday," Jongho shrugs, killing a zombie. "Four milkshakes are a lot, San."

The boy frowns, one second away from asking him why does Yeosang told him that when the actual Yeosang exits the bathroom, towel on his shoulders and water droplets kissing the fair skin of his neck. His eyes widen when he sees San splashed on the couch, and San does the same, eyes fluttering between the two boys. 

Jongho is still wearing all his clothes, shoes included. But, Yeosang, is only wearing an oversized shirt San recognizes as Jongho's.

"Hey, Sani," it takes one second for Yeosang to put on his normal smile, drying his hair on the way to the couch, taking a sit next to San. He smells like soap. "What are you doing here? Is late."

_ Why are  _ ** _you_ ** _ doing here? _ San wants to ask, but he ends up biting his tongue and centering his gaze on the screen. Jongho is building a castle now. 

"I needed a break from my apartment," he mumbles. 

"You haven't talked with Woo yet, right?" 

Yeosang knows Wooyoung for more than five years, being best friends is not enough to describe what they have. Yeosang is Wooyoung's confident, he tells him everything (aside from the sexual content, being San the one that had to listen to him rambling about it for hours while they were making dinner or when a sex scene came up in some movie they were watching and he had to remember him which position was Seonghwa's favorite). 

San knows Yeosang is his friend, but that if he has to choose, he will push him from a cliff just to protect Wooyoung from crying.

It makes San so sad his chest hurt. There's no one he can actually talk about that, and it's making him crazy. 

"It's more like he doesn't want to talk with me," San breathes, hugging his own knees.

The week was hard. He felt alone and confused, days getting longer and longer, the need of crying getting bigger on his chest. 

"You need to confront him," Yeosang says in a whisper, eyes fixated on the TV screen. "Right now, Wooyoung is feeling betrayed, if you wait for him, you will lose him. Fucking with Seonghwa wasn't a nice thing to do, San," his words pierce him with the ferocity of a bullet, stealing the air from his lungs in less than a second. His body fidgets a little, eyes moving to Jongho. He remains still, not even paying attention to them. "But he is also acting more dramatic than he needs. I know he is heartbroken, but he also did it wrong. And I know both your secrets, Seonghwa and you. There's no way you two were dating. I tried to tell him but he is not believing everything, so for the best, stop avoiding everyone and talk. Okay?" 

San looks down at his own hands, gulping. 

"Okay," he answers back, but he is sure Yeosang didn't heard him at all. 

—

San sleeps on Jongho's couch after eating dinner together with Yeosang. He asks about rehearsal, just in a need of getting distracted of every conversation blooming on his mind. What to say, how to say it, when to do it. 

Apparently, Seonghwa has been vague. Forgetting lines, getting late, looking way too much into his phone and that's driving Hongjoong crazy. Jisung has been covering San as Wooyoung also decided to skip it, and that also drives Hongjoong crazy. According to Yeosang, the week was a complete mess.

San shrugs and plays with the food. He can't go and kiss Seonghwa like nothing happened.

After dinner, Yeosang goes home and Jongho gives him a blanket. He doesn't ask, San feels thankful.

On Saturday morning, San decides to go to the shelter directly from Jongho's, still wearing sweatpants and bed hair. Is early in the morning when he arrives, Joshua already there, cap hiding his hair. 

"Choi San," he greets with a smile. "Is nice seeing you after a whole month."

San puts on a fake smile. Joshua is the kid of his dad's friend and they kinda know each other for a long time. The shelter was always a place where San went when he was feeling low, controlling the rollercoaster of emotions hitting him is so difficult right now. 

"I'm sorry. I've been busy with college."

"I can see," Joshua puts both hands on his shoulders, looking at him dead in the eye, "you look like crap. Have you been sleeping, kid?"

_ Not at all, _ is what he wants to say.

"Yeah," he lies, shrugging a little, "but I've been waking up extra early for the past week. Is there something I can do?"

Joshua shoots him a soft smile, starting moving ahead of him. "There's a lot, but since you look a little bit moody, I'll give you something to cheer you up."

Normally, San is in charge of cleaning the place or taking the dogs on a walk, sometimes feeding the cats and letting them crawl all over his body. As Joshua guides him inside the building, he wonders what could cheer him up. 

The answer comes in form of seven puppies, barking at the same time, tails swinging so fast it seems they're about to break. San's heart swells, knees falling onto the ground, arms opened to receive the seven puppies all at once. 

"We found the mom one month ago," Joshua explains, "she was protecting these little angels. We took care of them when she couldn't do it anymore."

San takes one of them between his arms, letting the small creature lick his face, smile blooming on his face. 

"People is coming today to adopt them. What if you stay here? You know how kids love puppies, and how puppies love kids."

"Isn't that too much responsibility?"

"Just make sure everyone has a home at the end of the day," Joshua smiles. "And maybe take one of them with you. He seems to like you."

San looks down at the puppy and for a moment, he can feel how his heart gets a little bit warm after the hell of a week he has been experiencing. He circles his thumbs and sinks them on the fur of the puppie, tail swinging faster than any twist. Maybe this is actually what he needed after all. “I don’t think my roommate would want a puppy right now,” actually, he is sure Wooyoung would love to have one of those little guys hanging around the apartament and hugging him to sleep, but it’s just not the moment. He remembers what Yeosang said, yet it’s so difficult to gather up the enough strength to confront Wooyoung out of all persons. “But I will do my best.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Joshua shoots him a soft smile before disappearing again, attracted by the sound of dogs barking at the front door. San sighs, looking down at the puppies, lips curving into a smile automatically. “Let’s find you a home,” he whispers.

—

The morning goes by without incidents.

San sits down on the floor and plays with the puppies until families star coming in, almost forgetting all his problems. Almost, because even when by 12 PM there’s only one puppy left sleeping on his lap, the last person he wanted to confront right now softly knocks the door and stands in front of him. His stomach twirls in an uncomfortable way: Seonghwa.

Seonghwa itself freezes, eyes widening at the sight of San sitting on the floor, totally not expecting to meet him there — even when everyone knows San loves to help on the shelter on Saturdays but, is Seonghwa listening? Not at all. Seonghwa never listens to him.

After a while — incredible awkward two minutes of silence — Seonghwa decides to speak up, one hand at the back of his hand, scratching his neck. “What are you doing here?”

San frowns, gaze fixed on the sleepy puppy. He doesn’t answer, not because he doesn’t want to talk with Seonghwa but because he doesn’t have anything on his mind he can use against him. Well, not that he wants to have something  _ against  _ him. It’s just that he is tired, so tired, and he doesn’t want to fight. Not anymore.

Seonghwa wins. That’s all.

“It’s been a while,” Seonghwa keeps on going, not moving a step from his position. “You have been skipping the rehearsals, that’s something I’d do.”

San clenches his jaw, one hand over his eyes. He rubs them, air getting stuck on his lungs. It burns, feeling like a cold blanket at the same time. “What do you want, Seonghwa?”

“Actually, I wanted to adopt that puppy you are holding, but now that I see how much they seem to love you, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he starts, San finally looking up in his direction. Last time San saw him, was at the party. Black hair pulled up, smokey eye makeup and bright red lipstick slipping through his chin. Right now, Seonghwa looks like a totally new person. Blonde hair, soft, almost looking like cotton candy, bangs covering his forehead and eyebrows. He is not wearing makeup at all aside from the eyebags under his eyes. 

For some reason, the softness surrounding him is enough to make San feel warm again. 

“It’s nice,” Seonghwa mumbles, shy smile edgening his mouth, “seeing you. You look good.”

_ ‘Seonghwa complementing me? This has to be a dream.’ _

“Who are you?” San mutters, making Seonghwa shake with a dry laugh. The older boy sighs right after, one hand covering half his face. When he makes eye contact, San feels cold again. But it’s different to all the other times he felt coldness coming from Seonghwa. It’s not like he wants to challenge San like always, it’s like a cry for help. “Are you okay?”

It takes another minute for Seonghwa to reply.

“I wasn’t expecting finding you here. Can we talk for a little?” He begs, glueing both his hands in front of his face. “I promise it won’t take more than ten minutes.”

A couple weeks ago, San would’ve loved to use that chance to mess up with him. But right now, after what he can call the worst week of his life — even worse than finals —, he doesn’t even want to move from his spot on the floor. He looks down at the puppy there, licking his fingers and tickling him. Then, he gazes at Seonghwa and his eyebags, his dry lips and baggy clothes.

“Okay.”

—

Seonghwa takes him to the coffee shop San always went with his father when he was a child and came in to pet the stray dogs. It brings him warm memories from his childhood, something he never thought he would be sharing with someone like Seonghwa, that prefers to ask for a tea without sugar instead of one of the amazings banana and chocolate milkshakes. But they had  _ sex _ , much to San’s displeasure. 

There’s nothing more intimate than that, even though it was on a party and San was so drunk he doesn’t even remembers taking off his clothes. Yet, the marks were there, like fire on his skin. And Wooyoung was also there, ice piercing his heart with just one look.

“Well,” Seonghwa starts as they wait for their order, breaking the silence that has been dancing between them for the past ten minutes. San bites the inside of his right cheek until he is feeling the taste of blood filling his mouth and mixing with his saliva. He is grossed out. “You deserve an apology.”

San only nods, gaze fixed on his fingers, feeling the most naked he felt in his life. He is supposed to be brave, to be sarcastic, maybe owning a big self confidence that helped him climb where he is right now. He is supposed to play with Seonghwa, but he doesn’t feel nothing of that anymore. He feels weak, and tired, but above all that, he feels horrible for what he did to Wooyoung. He can’t even look at Seonghwa on the face right now, and might not been able to do it in a while.

“I haven’t been good to you for the past years,” Seonghwa keeps on going as San remains silent, one hand moving to his nape where he starts scratching. San noticed, not long ago, how Seonghwa got nervous every time he found him unprepared on the campus, always playing with his hair before throwing some insult at him. “I was jealous, you know? Until you came into the club, I was the best. I was the  _ star _ . But then you appeared with your summer vibes and your perfect smile, and I swear I tried to persuade Hongjoong into not picking you, but you were… Naturally good. I hated it so much, I hated you… Until—”

“Seonghwa.” San is firm, filling his lungs with a big quantity of air, feeling the fire making a hole on his chest. “I don’t need an apology for you being a dick to me. I was too and if you are hoping for me to say sorry, your tea is gonna get cold because I won’t,” Seonghwa arches a brow at him, visibly confused, which once again makes San mad. He doesn’t know why, maybe he won’t ever know the reason, but Seonghwa riles him up so easily. And without a reason, just… Just because of the way he talks, or walks, or breathes. It’s annoying.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Okay,” San breathes again, making a thin line with his lips, arms crossed over his chest (maybe to protect himself, maybe to distract himself from the crying that’s warning him because lately he has been crying a lot). “Go ahead.”

The waitress comes then and places their order on the table, telling them to have a nice meal. San takes the chance to play with the strap and look down. Seonghwa looks down at his cup of tea, gaze getting lost on the color.

“I wanted to apologize because of what happened at the party,” he mumbles after a while.

“Hmm.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you and, hmm, you know,” he sighs, sad smile curving his lips (but San is too focussed on his own heart to even notice), “the other thing.”

San sighs.

“Yeah. I was dr—  _ We were _ drunk.”

“I know.”

“You shouldn’t have done it,” San sighs, head falling and hitting the table. He closes and opens his eyes in a matter of two seconds, feeling how the tears make their way to the wooden surface. San isn’t sure if they’re tears of sadness or rage. “And Wooyoung… Wooyoung thinks we have a  _ thing. _ Because of  _ you _ .”

Seonghwa moves on the table, getting closer, one hand reached out in his direction. He stops there for a second, fingers almost touching his skin, teeth biting hard down his lower lip. In the end, he comes back to his spot, that same hand covering his face before speaking through his parted lips.

“You know drunk people always do crazy things. Maybe my thing is say the things I’d never say if I was sober.”

“I don’t care about that, okay?” San accommodates himself on the chair, finally looking at him in the eye. “I’m talking about the sex, Seonghwa. And the way that you haven’t tell Wooyoung it was a one night stand,” San makes a pause, not really noticing how Seonghwa’s eyes widen at the fresh news, tongue meeting his lip. “How you made him hate  _ me _ , because you can’t stand me anymore.”

San hates Seonghwa. But he never really meant it. Seonghwa was a role model, he was nice to the others (like Wooyoung, or Yeosang), he really had a beautiful laugh. It was new for San, to finally have a rival, and maybe he enjoyed it way too much. But with the years, it quickly started to bother him.

Because he never did a thing to be hated about for real. Because maybe Seonghwa really hated him. And he is tired. Of everything. Even of fighting.

“What?”

“C’mon,” San moves a hand, unable to take a sip. “I know what we did, I saw my neck the morning after. Wooyoung  _ saw _ —”

“San,” when Seonghwa calls him, he looks divided. A part of him wants to sound serious, maybe assert that dominance he had been showing since they met. But the other, well, the other wants to laugh so bad it kind of lights up his face a little, matching the blonde hair he is now showing. It’s cute (and annoying). “What are you saying? We didn’t have sex.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Of course we did!” San frowns, at which Seonghwa replies with a negative shake of his head.

“I’m telling you, we didn’t. I never have sex if I drink, that’s not nice,” he explains, softly, observing how San parts his lips to protest one more time, getting stuck on his own memories. He sits down with both hands on his head, trying to remember. Seonghwa sighs, “I even told you, that it wasn’t a good idea. Then you left and that was the last time I saw you.”

San shakes his head.

“But then,” he stutters a little, finally toning down his voice and transforming into a shy creature, both hands on his cold milkshake, pouty lips as he talks, “my neck? And all the…” He stops mid sentence, again trying to remember. “Yeosang told me I  _ had _ sex. My clothes…”

“And you believed him?”

“Yeah?” San tilts his head. “We… didn’t?”

Seonghwa shakes his head again, slowly sipping before continuing. “We made out, but nothing more. I’m sorry for the hickies.” San remembers. That’s true, they made out on Yunho’s bathtub. But after that? Nothing happened?

On one hand, he feels relieved to hear that. Body feeling so light he could fly, a fleeting smile curving his lips. They didn’t had sex. They didn’t. And then, he falls again. Eyes getting dark, all the sadness from one week vanishing a little to give rage a place to stand. And right now, is standing in front of Seonghwa.

“If we didn’t, why does Wooyoung think we have… a  _ thing _ ?” He wrinkles his nose, still talking through pouty lips.

“Why do you look so disgusted? You were literally sucking my face a week ago.”

San goes red, one fist hitting the table. “Don’t get brave now, I will kill you.”

“Okay, sorry.”

“Wait,” San stops a little. “You’re not gonna fight back?”

Seonghwa sighs, tilting his head and giving him a weird luck. Weird because San doesn’t understand it; Seonghwa never looked at him like that— wait, Seonghwa never apologised either.

“San,” even the way he calls out his name is _ weird _ , “I’m here because I want us to be friends. I’m not going to fight you. Not anymore.”

“For real?”

“For real,” he assures. “And about Wooyoung, he asked me why I rejected him and,” he stops for a while, biting his thumb. “San, you remember something from that night?”

San doesn’t remember a lot, but he does remember Yunho. And how he kissed another person. It makes him feel a little sad again, stomach twirling at the thought of having to let Yunho go way before even holding him close.

“About you?” He mumbles.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa moves a hand on the table, dangerously close to San’s, moving it back when San shakes his head. He just remembers the kisses, and the fire. San gulps, taking a deep breath. “Okay. So about Wooyoung, I told him I already like someone and well, he saw you and maybe made a story up on his head. Because he was heartbroken.”

San blinks.

“You like someone?” Seonghwa nods, awkward smile edging his mouth. “Who?”

The older rolls his eyes, finishing his tea in one sip. When he speaks again, he doesn’t sound as confident as before. “I’m not going to tell you, Choi San. About us, friends?”

He offers him his hand (and a pair of sad eyes San, once again, doesn’t notice). It’s weird, so weird. Everything, just like Seonghwa is not the same as always or like that party marked the end of something and the start of another thing. Seonghwa doesn’t even look like he used to and, after looking at himself on the window, San doesn’t even feel like the same as before.

With a gulp, he accepts the hand and, for the first time in forever, San doesn’t hate Seonghwa as much as he claims to. He even feels a little warm while holding his hand.

—

Seonghwa ends up adopting the puppy and when San arrives to the apartment, he hugs his bed like he never did before. For the first time in a week, he is able to close his eyes and feel a little better. Not a lot, because there’s still a big amount of things he needs to solve, but the enough amount to sleep well after a week with no sleep.

He also saves Seonghwa’s number on his phone — Seonghwa was shook that he hadn’t yet, even after two years.

—

On Monday, San decides to go to rehearsal after three days without putting a feet on the stage. He hesitates on the door, hands shaking before Mingi is jumping on his back and giving him the biggest hug. Arms around his waist and loud screams on his ear, San feel his heart ache a little because he really missed this. 

Mingi then proceeds to scream at him, nagging — and even crying a little because  _ I thought you were dead! Why didn't you answer your phone? _

Even when Mingi is his best friend, the best San can do right now is pinch one of his cheeks and enter the room without saying a thing.

People welcomes them, totally unaware of what happened. Wooyoung's not here, neither is Seonghwa. Yeosang is playing with Jongho and Yunho is finishing one scenario. Feels empty. 

"So you decided to appear, huh?" Hongjoong puts his arms in a jar, frowning at him. "We are running out of time, sad boy!" 

San roll his eyes, patting his friend's shoulder before going straight to where Yeosang is, giving him a short hug. 

"It's okay," he assures. "Let's ride!" 

As Seonghwa is not here, San has to do his lines with Yunho, which makes things a lot weird than he ever imagined. Yunho's acting is softer than Seonghwa's, moving smoothly around the stage and looking at him with sparkly eyes, lips parting with a soft smile. 

San feels his hands shake, thankful they don't have to kiss because Hongjoong is sure Seonghwa will appear in the end — he hopes. 

When the rehearsal end, San doesn't feel as good as before. 

—

**yeosang, 7:46 P.M**

_ dude _

_ have you talked with wooyoung? _

**san, 7:50 P.M**

_ no  _

_ :) _

**yeosang, 7:50 P.M**

_ san _

_ you can't run away from your problems forever  _

San looks up at his ceiling. It's been almost two weeks, Wooyoung doesn't even sleeps on the apartment anymore. San doesn't ask when they find in the morning, yet he does wonder where he has been sleeping.

Now he is 90% sure he has been crashing at Yeosang's. 

**san, 7:55 P.M**

_ he doesn't want to do a thing with me, yeosang _

_ there's nothing I can do _

**yeosang, 7:56 P.M**

_ sigh _

_ and yunho? _

**san, 7:56 P.M**

_ what about yunho? _

**yeosang, 7:57 P.M**

_ have you talked with him? _

**san, 7:57 P.M**

_ no _

_ should I? _

**yeosang, 7:57 P.M**

_ san _

_ c'mon  _

_ I saw how you were looking at him _

**san, 7:58 P.M**

_ haha _

_ he is handsome sang _

_ I've been looking at him like that for _

_ like???? all my college life _

**yeosang, 7:58 P.M**

_ dude _

_ DUDE _

_ you were almost crying today _

**san, 8:00 P.M**

_ that's bc I miss woo _

**yeosang, 8:00 P.M**

_ that's because you are heartbroken  _

_ talk with him and let him go _

_ then talk with wooyoung too _

_ or make seonghwa talk with him  _

_ you are making me bald _

San sighs, one hand covering his eyes. Yes, Yeosang is very right, he is heartbroken. Not because he lost Yunho but because a lot of things happened on the same night and in the end, when he most needs a hug, he is alone.

**san, 8:02 P.M**

_ okay  _

He texts Yunho right after that and they meet up for an ice cream. 

—

It's cold, or maybe San just feel a general discomfort. He wears a big coat, too big for an April night, and sits down in a bench facing the park. Yunho likes that park, they've been here a lot of times. Alone, or not. Talking about theatre or just staring at the clouds in silence.

"Here," the tall boy appears wearing shorts and a hoodie, blue hair already faded in a soft blonde. It makes San's heart ache with the sight of so many blonde hair. "Strawberry and lemon, bittersweet."

Yunho giggles, fingers touching when he hands San the popsicle. San's teeth ache just at the sight of the ice, goosebumps rushing over his body. 

"Thanks," he mumbles, gaze down. He feels the same as when he met Seonghwa fours days ago. "What's your flavour?"

"Choco!" Yunho smiles, biting it without getting a brain freeze. "So, what's bothering you, Sani?"

"Hmmm?"

"Well, you've been acting weird. I was wondering if something happened to you too on my birthday…"

San looks up, popsicle starting to melt on his fingers, liquid kissing his skin with its sticky lips.

"Too?" He asks, making Yunho look up at the night sky. So dark, filled with little stars, so bright. They like this spot because of how beautiful the sky is at night.

"Hmm," Yunho finishes his popsicle in two bites, playing with the stick. "I bet you know it. Seonghwa and Wooyoung didn't end up well."

"Oh, yeah."

They remain silent for the next five minutes, San's feet playing with the dirt covering the floor. There isn't a lot of noise today, not a lot of people eating popsicles at 9 P.M. Just them, sitting on a bench. 

San can count his heartbeats, loud on his ears. 

"Yunho, you know I like you, right?" He mumbles, so low at first he thinks it's only a thought he couldn't word out. But the words make it out of his throat, filling the silence that had been revolting around them with a harsh confession. 

San's heart stops beating for a brief second.  _ I messed up. _

"Yeah," Yunho's voice is soft, like the chirping of birds during a summer morning. "My jokes are not that funny, Sani." 

He laughs, no, he  _ giggles _ and then puts a hand on San's thigh. San shrinks a little, eyes a little watery.  _ Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. _

"Uh huh."

"Wait, were you—" Yunho moves, eyes finding San. The boy stands blurry in front of him. Where did everything start, he wonders. Why is he so sad, he cries out internally. "Were you confessing? To  _ me _ ?"

San closes his eyes as a way of trying to hide his tears, but fails miserably, one tear making a way to his chin. Ticklish. And cold. 

"Hmm, no," he shakes his head, popsicle falling to the ground. Yunho's body moves automatically, fingers reaching for it without success. He ends up kneeling on the ground, looking at San from below. "I, hmm, I saw you. At the party," he wiggles a hand in the air, sniffing, "with that other person. I’m sorry. It's okay, Yunho, it's okay," San speaks fast, one hand quickly cleaning his tears away. "I just wanted to let you know."

In reality, he just wants Yunho to reject him properly. 

"I see," Yunho stands up, lips pressed together in a thin line. "We're not dating, you know? I don't even think he likes me," he blurts out. 

San gulps, standing as well. Right now, he hates that Yunho is this tall, he feels intimidated. 

"It's okay," he repeats. "I don't need explanations, when it comes to love, we can't choose. You are an incredible person, Yunho. And I'm so glad that you are my friend, I don't want things… To become weird between us."

"Sani," Yunho whispers, but stops there. Nothing more to say.

"I hope everything works out for you, Yunho." 

San takes a deep breath, shooting him a warm smile. "Thanks for coming today," he waves him goodbye and walks back with both his hands on the pocket of his jacket. He shivers.

It went well, he thinks. Not how he imagined, but that bomb exploded one week ago on the bathroom of his apartment. And then, he didn't feel as bad as he imagined, but now his heart aches the most in years. 

Watching how Yunho kissed someone didn't make him feel as bad as now, looking directly at Yunho's eyes. Big sparkly eyes, shy smile as he talks about the person he likes, how he looked a little hurt when he said the other person doesn't like him back. 

Yunho is in love and that showed San that he never was in love with him. Not to that point. And just as he did one week ago, he searches for  _ that _ person.

The last person he would go if he was hurting. 

_ 'San?' _

He picks up in a second, voice shaking with a little worry at the other side of the phone. San is still walking, sniffing, tears staining his cheeks. 

_ 'San? Hey, are you here? San!' _

"Hey," he mumbles. 

_ 'What happens? Why did you call me? Don’t scare me.' _

San wants to shrug, because he really doesn't know. Why he called Seonghwa out of all of them? 

"I'm— Your number was the first I saw when I opened my agenda. I'm sorry."

_ 'It's that so?'  _ San shakes his head, unable to keep his sobs to himself. He stops, shoes sinking on the ground, mad at himself for acting so dramatic.  _ 'Are you crying?'  _ Silence.  _ 'Did something happen?' _

"I fell."

_ 'You fell?'  _

"Yeah. I went for a walk and fell."

Seonghwa hums.  _ 'Then you called me because…?' _

"It was an error." 

_ 'Okay. Then, I'll hang up now.' _

San gulps, fingers tightly pressed around the phone. "Wait. Seonghwa."

_ 'Yeah?' _

"We are friends, right?"

Wooyoung hates him. Yeosang is not on his side. Yunho… Well, he can't go to Yunho. He can't tell Mingi or Hongjoong. And he is pretty sure Jongho would listen to him without a problem. But—

But he wants Seonghwa. For some reason, right now he needs to hear Seonghwa's annoying voice.

_ 'That's what I want, yeah.'  _

"Okay. Can you walk me home?" San whispers, static sound bugging his ear. 

_ 'Of course,'  _ Seonghwa sighs, laughing a little after that.  _ 'Actually, I thought you were calling me to wish me a happy birthday.'  _

San stops once again, looking at the date on his phone. Fuck. 

_ 'It's okay, you still hate my guts I wasn't expecting a lot. Maybe a kiss, or two,'  _ he laughs again.

And San, oh god, San starts feeling warm again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm @bubblesani on twitter! I love making friends so please come say hi (and force me to write chapter 7 faster).


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spend 2 months without posting but when I post I do it twice in the same week. I feel like this chapter is a little bit confusing but I like to be mysterious (and also, it's all from San's point of view so we all know what San knows, take that in consideration), but don't worry I will explain it all next chapter.  
Thanks for all your comments, I love you so much! <3

Minho told him once that things are written on the stars and that comeuppance will end up coming for his ass. He told him that during a party that went wrong, so San never really believed him. 

Until today, when comeuppance is really coming for his ass for all the bad things he had done in his life: that piece of cake he ate and blamed his sister, all the times he punched Mingi just because he found something funny, breaking Wooyoung's heart, kissing Seonghwa (and then having a thirty minutes conversation on the phone over Mingi's loud sexual life, which also adds Hongjoong, and both of them being utterly disgusted). 

"Professor Choi!" 

Practice comes again and Hansol is painting a moustache on Minho at 8 A.M. San arrived late, lately sleeping more than ever, not hearing the first two alarms, but strangely Hwayoung arrives later. The little girl stomps towards him, hair braided and a big smile that fills his eyes. San missed this, the kids and the happiness surrounding everything. It makes his heart warm again.

San opens his arms for the little girl to fit there, but Hwayoung has other intentions. "Please, come here!" She asks, little fingers wrapping around San's sleeve, walking him outside the edifice. To the entry. Where a person is waiting, small pup jumping around his longs legs dressed in tight black jeans.

And this is the exact moment when comeuppance comes for San's ass. 

"Hwa!" The little girl calls out, almost falling when San freezes, feet glued to the ground as he locks gazes with Seonghwa. Seonghwa again. Of course it has to be him. "Professor Choi, what happens?" He doesn't answer, analysing Seonghwa's expression: he seems as shocked as him, at least. "I wanted you to meet  _ Sunshine _ ."

San blinks, finally being able to move from confused Seonghwa to little Hwayoung. And now, late, he finds Seonghwa's eyes on her, as well with the way their lips curve when they smile or they nose, so perfect. 

They're siblings. 

"What?" He shakes his head, feeling a little dizzy. "Sunshine?"

"My puppy!" Hwayoung smiles brightly, letting go of his sweater to run to where  _ his brother  _ is also frozen, bringing the puppy back. The same puppy he had on his arms just a couple days away. He kneels, giving Seonghwa a short gaze before picking the pup up. "My brother adopted him for me! Isn't he cute?"

"He's so cute, and he is so glad to have you to take care of him," San smiles, a lot of things going on his mind. But mostly Seonghwa. 

Hwayoung giggles, head turning back again. "Hwa, come here! Meet my favourite teacher."

_ Oh no, no, no, no, no, don't you dare coming here Park Seonghwa. I will kill you.  _

He moves. 

_ Fuck you. _

"This is Professor Choi," she explains with a big smile, one little hand falling over San's big one. The other twirls around Seonghwa's hand, pulling them closer. "Hwa, he is so nice. Look at the  _ things _ on his cheeks! Professor Choi please smile! Smile!" 

San looks at Seonghwa, then looks at Hwayoung, then bites his tongue because he can't just say no to his little flower. Who is also Seonghwa's little girl. Ironic. 

With a sigh, he smiles. Eyes disappearing into beautiful crescent moons, lips curving a little without showing his teeth but his dimples instead, painfully digging on his cheeks as Seonghwa is standing in front of him, fingers brushing. 

Hwayoung cheers. 

"We should head to class now." 

"Uuuuh," the little girl frowns. "But I wanna play with Sunshine."

"Youngie," Seonghwa's voice is firm, yet he kneels in front of her and fixes her braids. "Professor Choi has a lot of things to do. Listen to him, okay?" 

She nods, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek before hugging Sunshine. Seonghwa stands up again, eyes fixed on San.

_ This is karma. _

He reaches his hand out, which San refuses to hold so it's the older boy who ends up holding it, tightly. San clenches his teeth, heart racing. The skin is so soft.

"Is nice meeting you, Professor Choi," he says, softly, still with a little mockery dancing on his voice. San doesn't know how to feel. He asks to be friends, but deep down he is still the same. And he can confirm it when he pulls his hand up and places a kiss over his knuckles. 

San wants to scream. Punch his jaw. Scream again. Fall down because his legs feel like jelly. Scream one more time. In the end he does nothing, letting Seonghwa's lip on his skin for more than five seconds.

"Ugh, Hwa! Don't be weird!" Hwayoung half screams half laughs. 

"Have a good day," Seonghwa sings, waving at them.

Just five minutes after, he throws his whole body over — now with a french moustache — Minho and punches him. But also cries a little out of impotence.

The kiss was soft. 

—

The expression on Daehyun's face is enough to make Minho (almost) pop a lung, eyebrows wiggling and cigarette falling from her lips.

San is looking at her dead in the eye.

"So you're telling me that not only you are kissing Park Seonghwa during rehearsals but making out with him on bathtubs now?" She sums up everything he told her (and, as Minho and Hansol were there, them too).

"It was one time," he corrects. 

Daehyun raises a brow.

"And now you are friends," she continues.

"Like friends with benefits, right?" Hansol adds, at which San shakes his head.

He puts both his hands over the small table of the cafeteria, tempted of kicking Minho on the face because he won't fucking shut up.

"I don't think we're even friends! I mean," he comes back to his spot, frowning, "I'm sure he just messed with me. Kissing my hand and all that."

"Maybe he likes you," Daehyun says, at which San snorts, crossing his arms. "I'm being serious. He kissed you  _ and _ asked for truce. Seems suspicious."

San purses his lips in discomfort, proceeding to shake his negative one second after. He rests his back on the chair, taking his thumb to his mouth. 

"He likes another person," he mumbles, not being able to shake Yunho from his mind. 

Yunho also likes another person— No, he is in love. San knows it. For the way he spoke with a smile and a little sadness dancing on his eyes. Everyone seems to be in love with the wrong person lately. 

"I think is you," Daehyun keeps on going.

"I think he just wants another, you know," Minho smiles cheekily as he does a hand gesture, making Hansol snort next to him. "Now that he's not with Wooyoung, he is desperate."

San frowns.

"Listen," Minho nods, "he tasted your lips during rehearsals, he knew you were a good kisser. It's not like you are a nobody." 

"Okay, don’t listen to him," Daehyun clicks her tongue. "I'm just saying this seems weird. Watch out. Now, Hansol, do you want some fries?"

The boy jumps from his seat in a second, Minho follows offended he wasn't asked, leaving San alone in the table. 

_ Weird. _

It's really weird. 

—

San closes his locker a little bit harder that he initially intended, but he is having a rough day and it's only 5 in the afternoon. He still has a long rehearsal season ahead and for his tragedy, Seonghwa finally decided to appear back.

_ Comeuppance,  _ he grits his teeth at the sight of the man walking into the dressing room. Still wearing the same tight jeans, molding perfectly to his long legs, also perfect — and why is he thinking about his legs?

Seonghwa moves to his locker, three spots away from San's. They doesn't say a thing even though they didn't have a problem on the phone the other day. Maybe it's because the phone doesn't have a face, neither legs.

_ Stop thinking about his legs! _

"You okay?" Seonghwa looks over him, raising a brow. San moves a few steps backwards, arms falling like dead limbs at both sides of his body.

"Yeah," he mumbles, feet scratching on the floor as he turns on his heels to walk out of the dressing room. He bites the inside of his cheek, not being able to step outside. 

Then he does something only San would do: start a useless fight with Park Seonghwa.

"Well, now that you ask, I'm not okay," he turns around again, walking to Seonghwa, pointing a finger at him. "You didn't tell me you have a sister."

San stops two centimetres away, Seonghwa lowering his eyes a little to catch his gaze. It drives San crazy the way he has to raise his head to look at him in the eye.

"We don't know a thing about each other, San."

That's true.

"Still," San parts his lips, not being able to find the right words. He doesn't know why he is so mad at Seonghwa for not telling him he's Hwayoung's older brother. Maybe he is just mad at himself. "Still!"

He presses his finger on Seonghwa's chest, once again not knowing what to say.

"Still?"

"You annoy me," San mumbles, at which Seonghwa giggles a little. 

"I thought we were friends."

"Friends still annoy."

Seonghwa laughs, fingers slowly wrapping around San's wrist, bringing him a little closer. San notices how the smile curving his lips doesn't go all the way up his eyes, shining in a little pearl sadness. His blonde hair is still softly falling over his forehead like cotton candy. 

"W-what?" San frowns when Seonghwa pulls him closer, chest bumping together. 

"Is because I kissed your hand?" Seonghwa whispers, eyes falling on San's face. Eyes, nose, lips. The younger doesn't move, feeling a weird burning wave twirling on his chest. This new Seonghwa is different, like something changed between them on that party. Like he got rid of something weighing his chest, light enough to fly to San and act like this. Like he  _ likes _ him.

But San only remembers the bathtub. 

"We've kissed before, in front of a room full of people," Seonghwa tilts his head a little. "Why is bothering you so much now?" 

Because he never felt this way in front of  _ him. _ It was always fighting, always insulting, always biting his tongue. Now, he feels warm, soft, almost like falling on his knees, not a single thought on his mind to fight him back. And he thought it was because he is tired of fighting, because the Wooyoung accident left him alone, but after talking with Yunho he realized something. 

He likes the attention, the way his body reacts to everything Seonghwa says. 

"Hmm?"

"Is nothing," San shakes his head, trying to move (unsuccessfully). "Please, let go of me."

Seonghwa smiles, fingers moving to San's cheek, pinching him. "I'm not holding you anymore, silly."

San looks down, where right now he is the one tightly holding onto Seonghwa's arm. His ears go red, moving so fast he hits his elbow with the locker's door, whiplash of pain moving all the way down his spinal cord.

"Fuck! Shit!"

The boy bends over his own body, pain tickling all the cells of his body. Seonghwa moves quickly, one hand on his back.

"Oh, man, you are really an idiot."

"Insulting me, Seonghwa," San groans, holding his own body, "exactly what I need to hear right now!"

Seonghwa sighs, helping him get up. "Let me see," his fingers take a grip of his sleeve, showing the pale skin of his wrist.

"It's okay, what are you gonna do?" San scoffs, moving aside. "Kiss the bruise?"

"If that's what you want."

Seonghwa sticks his tongue at him, mockingly. 

"Of course not!"

The boy moves one step aside and Seonghwa finally closes his locker to avoid more injuries. San rolls his sleeve down again, eyes finding Seonghwa in the way.

His  _ lips. _

San doesn't understand it, not at all, after all they've go through. He can't understand why his body is so attracted to Seonghwa, why he can't move from his spot, why his only thought right now is  _ kissing him. _

_ Kiss him. _

_ I don't like him. _

_ Kiss him. _

_ But why? _

_ Kiss him. _

San's legs move alone, saving the short distance he put between them just a minute ago. His hands find his face real quickly, fingers threading on his hair, bringing him close. Seonghwa doesn't oppose resistance, one hand cupping San's face and the other one firmly pressed against his waist.

Seonghwa lets out a whine when their lips met, harshly, fast moving against each other like they missed the feeling. San just wanted to shut up the voice inside his head, ending up with fire bubbles on his throat. 

He feels eager, fingers moving on Seonghwa's hair, scratching his nape. It feels nice, the way their lips mold and their tongues meet, wet and warm, but he needs more. Needs the space between them to get closer. They chest are pressed against each other, hearts beating at the same time, heavy breathes burning their throats.

"Oh, fantastic."

San's brain react to that voice, body fidgeting with a wave of cold regret. His hands push Seonghwa aside, seeing the fear paint his features before turning on his heels and find him. 

_ Wooyoung _ . 

The boy is still standing by the door, backpack hanging from his right shoulder. The look on his face mixes perfectly the sadness he'd been carrying around for two weeks and the rage. 

San's mouth go dry.

"Wooyoung, wait—"

"No, it's okay," Wooyoung scoffs, one hand covering his eyes. "That's what couples do after all. You are finally dating? Congratulations."

San moves forward, words ready to drip from his mouth. Yet, is Seonghwa the one that speaks. 

"Wooyoung, you are getting things totally wrong," he starts, Wooyoung's lips trembling a little when he gets closer. "We talked about this."

The boy snorts, but his eyes get a little watery. 

"Yeah, we talked. We talked, Seonghwa. And I'm not mad at you, it's not your fault that I fell in love," he mutters, eyes moving to San. "You were my friend, San. I trusted you just for you to play with me."

"I never played with you," San has difficulties to speak, lump on his throat. His hands start shaking again when Wooyoung moves far from him.

"Stop lying to me, please. You faked all that hate because you liked him. Why didn't you tell me? Why you waited for me to tell  _ you  _ that I was confessing? Just why?"

San shakes his head, both hands on his chest when he speaks, voice shaking. 

"I don't like him, you know that, why would I lie to you?"

"San, you were kissing just now!"

"But that's why—" San stops because he really doesn't know why. He looks at Seonghwa, but the boy is looking down at his feet. 

Wooyoung sighs.

"I'd prefer you to stop lying at me, San. Stop breaking my heart."

And that's when San's heart, actually, break. It shatters in tiny pieces at how Wooyoung looks down, how even Seonghwa looks down. How, suddenly, he is the bad guy. Alone once again.

"I don't like him," he says one more time, big eyes focused on Wooyoung. This is the first conversation they have in weeks, is his chance to fix everything. Tell him the truth. So he does. "The one I liked is Yunho. Okay? You can ask him, I confessed, I got rejected, and yeah I kissed Seonghwa but, but when you two were a  _ thing _ , I didn't even wanted to look at him."

San speaks softly, trying so hard not to cry. Wooyoung's eyes widen, lips parting a little, and again, he is not the one speaking. Is Seonghwa. 

"You like Yunho?" He asks San, expression changing from confusion to incredulity. "So he's the one that made you cry that night. Now everything makes sense," he moves his tongue inside his mouth, hitting his cheek. 

San shrinks.

"What's happening here?" 

_ Oh, great. We're all together now. _

Yunho appears behind Wooyoung, one hand placed over his shoulder. The worried look on his face disappears as soon as Wooyoung shoves his hand away with a confused look.

"He likes you," he mumbles, walking away.

Yunho stares at San, shaking his head right after. "Woo, wait." 

San feels a piercing on his heart, that only sinks deeper when Seonghwa passes next to him with his bag hanging from his shoulder. "I'm going too. Don't feel like pretending I'm okay today."

"What?"

San watches him go without saying more, passing next Hongjoong, not saying a word. Soon Hongjoong is walking right to him, frowning. Maybe a little bit mad.

"What the hell is going on now?" He demands. "Why are these three leaving? We were all here after two weeks, what happened?"

San doesn't say a thing, leaving the dressing room without his bag. He needs air.

"San! Don't you dare!"

He is already pushing the doors to one side. 

—

The apartment is cold, filled with silence. San spends the rest of the day laying on bed, waiting for Wooyoung to come back. But he doesn't. 

And after what happened, San is starting to believe he's not spending the night on Yeosang's. 

Is hurting him a little. But also confusing him to the point of giving him a stomachache. What does Wooyoung want? Why does he keep on hating on him when he knows the truth? When he was the one Yunho kissed on his birthday?

San just wants to dig a hole on the ground and lay there forever.

His phone starts ringing late at night, Seonghwa's name on display. He doesn't pick it up and Seonghwa calls him a total of seven times before San is rolling on bed and groaning under his breath. Still, he doesn’t pick up, he opens the messages instead.

**san, 11:45 P.M**

_ stop calling me _

_ is almost midnight _

Seonghwa calls again just one second after.

"This man is so annoying," he growls. 

**san, 11:48 P.M**

_ istg  _

_ dont make me go there and punch you _

**seonghwa, 11:48 P.M**

_ then pick it up _

_ idiot _

**san, 11:49 P.M**

_ stop calling _

_ im not in a mood _

**seonghwa, 12:00 A.M**

_ I need to tell you something  _

**san, 12:00 A.M**

_ go ahead _

**seonghwa, 12:01 A.M**

_ not over text _

_ please, san  _

**san, 12:01 A.M**

_ siiiiiiiiigh _

_ okay _

His phone is ringing one second later, but San waits at least half a minute before picking up. He curls himself into a ball, knees meeting his chest. Trying to find the easiest way of his chest to stop hurting. He feels like an idiot.

"You are so annoying, Park Seonghwa," he mumbles. 

_ 'You've told me that before. San, can you please look through the window?'  _

San raises a brow, legs moving a little, getting tangled in the sheets. "What?"

_ 'Please.' _

Seonghwa's voice makes his heart swell a little, feeling nervous about whatever he's gonna find at the other side of the crystal. Even when it was obvious, he feels his legs like jelly when he locks gazes with the boy. He is standing on the street, slowly waving at him.

"What are you doing here?"

_ 'I wanted to apologise for today. I knew you wouldn't want to see me in person, but texting is not my thing. So this is for the best.' _

San bites down his own lip, eyes not missing a single movement from the boy. He leans a little over the frame. "Apologising for what?"

Seonghwa chuckles.

_ 'Kissing your hand in front of my sister, kissing you in general, running away. I know you had a rough day.' _

"I accept your apologies. But I was the one kissing you."

_ 'But I accepted it.' _

"But it was me," San opens the window, feeling closer to him even when his apartment is on the third floor. It’s not cold, yet San doesn’t feel well, body shivering. Seonghwa has his hair hidden under a black beret, forehead on sight. His eyebrows move down, following a soft smile curving his lips. "Seonghwa, can I ask you something?"

The boy nods, weighting his body on his right leg. San gulps.

"Do you like me?"

Daehyun's words rumble on his brain, making him feel a little nervous, stomach twirling while he waits for an answer. 

Seonghwa remains in silence, arm moving a little, hitting his leg. From his position San can't see well how he reacted, which makes him even more anxious. 

_ 'No,'  _ Seonghwa's tone is low, shaky.  _ 'I want us to be friends. We have a play together, and yeah I love messing up with Joong, but I want everything to go well for him. So we should just put our differences aside and work together.' _

So that’s it. Okay.

San frowns, remembering what Seonghwa himself told him one month ago, when the roles were out. He told him three months were enough to make him go away. San really doesn't feel a lot of emotion about the play anymore. He started it because of Yunho, and just a month after, he is rejected. He kept on going because he didn’t want to lose against Seonghwa.

But it's Seonghwa the one that gives up first.

"Why did you kiss me?" Curiosity still bites his skin. They kissed in the afternoon, not even ten hours ago.

_ 'Why did you?'  _ He asks back.

He clicks his tongue, fingers taking a tight grip of the phone. San asks himself the same question.

_ 'I want us to be friends for real. Is just taking me a lot to change my vision of you.' _

"Mocking me is already on your DNA, right?"

_ 'You are cute when you are pissed,' _ he giggles. San rolls his eyes, "I'm gonna hang off."

_ 'Are you okay, San?' _

He shakes his head.

"You said it. Rough day."

Seonghwa nods, not saying a thing at all. It feels awkward, but San feels calmer than ever. He closes the window and mumbles a short goodnight before falling on the mattress. 

Still, his heart aches a little.

Yunho likes Wooyoung. And for some reason, the one Seonghwa likes, is also Yunho. 

If things are written on the stars, then the stars really chose the worst storyline for him. 

—

**Groupchat: THEATRE KIDS **

**hongjoong, 9:23 A.M**

_ listen _

_ and I don't want a simple complaint  _

**mingi, 9:24 A.M**

_ oh here it comes the pain in the ass  _

**hongjoong, 9:24 A.M**

_ mingi, shut up _

_ now listen  _

_ we are going on a two day, one night trip  _

_ already booked the cottage for all of us _

_ this friday  _

_ and if you don't come, I'll be very mad _

_ (and I won't give you the extra credits) _

**wooyoung, 9:25 A.M**

_ that's not fair! _

_ im not even on the play why do I need to _

_ go to a cottage with you all? _

**hongjoong, 9:25 A.M**

_ because we are a team _

_ and lately I've seen this team is not working  _

**yeosang, 9:26 A.M**

_ oh _

_ a bonding camp _

_ I went to one when I was 7 _

**wooyoung, 9:26 A.M**

_ this is RIDICULOUS  _

**hongjoong, 9:26 A.M**

_ wooyoung, you are one of the reasons _

**wooyoung, 9:27 A.M**

_ WHAT _

**hongjoong, 9:27 A.M**

_ you, and seonghwa, and san _

_ you're even dragging yunho into this _

_ I don't want to know what the hell happened _

_ it's not our right but _

_ IM LOSING MY SANITY _

_ so we are doing this  _

_ or no credit _

**mingi, 9:28 A.M**

_ and why do we all have to go? _

_ pull them into a closet and lets go eat ice cream _

**seonghwa, 9:28 A.M**

_ why don't we pull you off a cliff  _

**hongjoong, 9:29 A.M**

_ this is exactly what I'm saying  _

_ I love theatre, it's my entire life _

_ and you are part of it _

_ I won't lose this _

**san, 9:30 A.M**

_ oh shit _

—

They can't say no to Hongjoong and on friday morning, San sits alone on the front of the bus because finally Wooyoung is smiling a little — thanks to Yeosang and Mingi — and he doesn't want things to get worse sitting with them. So he is alone, and that’s sad. But there’s nothing he can’t do aside from putting on loud music and wait for the four hour trip to end soon.

He puts on his earphones and closes his eyes, spending only half the ride alone. 

Hongjoong is taking them to a cozy cottage on the mountain. He said  _ nature is the perfect environment for bonding _ but San is really scared of getting lost in the woods and never come back home. He is also scared of confronting Wooyoung and Seonghwa — because he knows that’s Hongjoong’s plan after all. Who takes twenty college students to the mountain just because they want? Without hidden intentions? 

If he has to admit it, it's kind of nice of Hongjoong to organize all that. He wrote a whole play, fought with everyone to have it displayed just because it's lgbt themed, made special costumes for every single one of them. Is his chance to get recognised as a writer, and thanks to San the group is shattering. 

"Can I sit?" 

San takes off one earphone, back pressed to the window. 

"Well, you sat already. Need something?"

Seonghwa takes the earphone from his hand without even asking, making San frown.

"That's not nice."

"Why are you listening to sad music? We are going camping!" 

San arches a brow. 

"You look excited," he says, observing how Seonghwa's eyes are more sparkly than ever, slight smile dancing on his lips. Maybe is his hair or the sunlight painting his cheeks but he looks like a sunset. Gold and beautiful. It’s the first time he sees Seonghwa smile this way, which makes it a little weird after their conversation over the phone.

"Not going to lie to you, I love the  _ mountain _ .”

“What?” San blinks, taking off the other earphone. The bus is loud, mostly filled with Mingi’s screams.

Seonghwa smiles, body moving so he is now facing him and giving Hongjoong his back. “The mountain,” he repeats, finger pointing at the mountains that can bee seen on the horizon. “We used to come a lot before Young was born, I missed it."

"Hmm."

"What about you? Why the sad face?" Seonghwa leans in, observing him from below. San gets a little shy, raising the legs until they find his chest.

San growls. "It's nothing."

"Of course it's something. We are  _ friends _ , you can tell me."

Seonghwa smiles brightly, almost as if he switched roles with Yunho. Is weird.

"It's really nothing."

"San."

The boy sighs, closing his eyes for a second. "I have a shitty sense of orientation, okay?" San growls, flushed cheeks as Seonghwa covers his mouth with his hand. "I'll get lost and die, all thanks to you."

He ignores the confrontation part, because Seonghwa is acting all happy and it seems genuinely and not to mock him. The older boy can't keep his giggles to himself anymore, bursting into laugh right next to him.  _ He is so annoying. What the hell does he want? _

"We're not doing orientation, San," Hongjoong sighs from the seat that's next to his. "This is a bonding experience, not a Boy Scouts reunion."

"Joong, you remember when we were kids and did orientation?" Seonghwa is still laughing.  _ Who's this man? _ "He got lost and cried for hours until we found him," he says, turning his head to San again, laughing even more, adding pats on his arm.

Hongjoong is reading a book, but he looks so ready punch Seonghwa on the face. And so is San.

"But don't worry," he says after a while — when he finally stops laughing —, one hand patting San's thigh now. "If you get lost, I will find you."

"How are you so sure?" San snorts.

Seonghwa shoots him a weird smile, one he haven't seen in his life.

"I’m good with mountains."

One of his hand moves to San's cheek, staying there way longer than just a friendly touch. Seonghwa smiles warmly, circling his thumb over his skin.

San doesn't catch the way Hongjoong is looking at them. He is too focused on the way the light is sparkling on Seonghwa's honey eyes. 

—

It's 1 P.M when they arrive to the cottage, a woman on his forties welcoming them with a big and warm smile. San slept for one hour over Seonghwa's shoulder — totally unintentionally —, feeling his body a little heavy as he walks to where everyone is crowded.

He catches Wooyoung clinging onto Yeosang, Yunho having a conversation with Jongho. Seonghwa and Mingi standing at both sides of Hongjoong, making Ryujin burst into laugh. San decides to stay on one side.

"Rooms are double," Hongjoong starts, weird smile curving his lips. San doesn't have a good feeling about it. "I put you according your roles, so you can feel closer to the characters and the person they are most comfortable with."

_ That's it. _

San knows it before Hongjoong starts saying names, so he just walks over Seonghwa and patiently waits for the key.

"Jesse and Noah," Hongjoong mocks, giving San the key, turning to Yunho and giving him another key, "and also backup Jesse and Noah."

San starts walking before hearing more pairings, but with that logic Hongjoong dig his own grave because Mingi has to share it with Yeosang. Or maybe is Yeosang the one that's gonna have to leave the room during the night.

Anyway, he doesn’t care.

Their room is number 12.

The room is small, cozy, every furniture made of wooden, beige walls — and blankets. There's two beds only separated by five centimetres and one closet at the end of them. Through the window they have a wonderful view of the mountains.

"Nice," Seonghwa says as he places his suitcase on the bed that's on the right, not even complaining about them having to share the room for two days. San is still thinking why did Seonghwa has to bring a whole suitcase. "You don't snore, right?"

San rolls his eyes, proceeding to place his backpack on the bed, placing his body over the mattress right after. San sighs, listening how Seonghwa hums a song under his breath. 

San doesn't like Seonghwa, he repeats that to himself almost tenth times. 

_ Then why do I want him to like me so bad? _

He stands a little using his elbow, eyes finding Seonghwa folding his clothes. Is annoying how perfectly tidy he is.

Seonghwa is so annoying is driving him crazy. Yet, he still feels the need of jump over him and kiss him until he can’t feel his lips anymore.

_ Just why? I am really getting closer to Noah? This is bullshit. _

"Why are you staring?" Seonghwa looks at him over his shoulder.

San takes a deep breath, filling his chest with air. His lips part a little, words jumping on his tongue, thoughts that have been revolting on his mind since he called him that night finally making it out.

"You also like Yunho, right?" He babbles, Seonghwa's eyes going wide in surprise. "You looked mad when I told Wooyoung I liked him. For that you came to apologise."

San stares at him, trying to find a clue on the way his face reacts or his body moves, but Seonghwa freezes for five seconds before smirking in discomfort. 

"What? No! I don't like Yunho."

"Then why did you say that?" San keeps on going, standing now. His feet point at Seonghwa. "Don't feel like pretending I'm okay today," he recites Seonghwa's words, eyes following the way the edges of his face softens. 

Seonghwa turns around, facing him. San feels how his heart starts racing again.

"I can't tell you."

"Why?" 

"Because."

"Why do you have to be so mysterious all the time?" San frowns then, moving his hand in the air. "It's like you enjoy messing with my head. Or wait, is that your plan? Pretending to be friends, maybe? Just to break my heart or something like you did with Wooyoung?"

Seonghwa loses his smile in one second, lips tightly pressed.

"I don't have intentions of breaking  _ your _ heart."

"Then what do you want?" San demands, getting one step closer. The words flow out of his mouth without control, falling like tiny daggers. Seonghwa's body shakes a little as his legs hit the bed, eyes focussed on how San's lips move. "You're acting weird! Like first you come to me like I broke your heart, asking to be friends. Then you kiss my hand in front of your sister, kiss me on the dressing room, get mad at me just to do that ridiculous shit and come to my apartment to call me on the phone. Once again asking to be friends. And now you look like you're the happiest person in the world and it's annoying me because I don't understand you. Why do you want us to be friends now? Why don't you just stuck to your initial plan of making me give up so you can shine as the star you are? Why—"

"Because this is my last year," Seonghwa stops him, one hand holding onto his wrist. His voice makes it out through his gripped teeth, gasping a little. "After the play, I'm gonna graduate. And I wanted for us to be friends before disappearing."

The news get San unprepared, cold hands touching his back and making him shiver. Coming from Seonghwa, he expected something different. He really expected all to be a prank. 

Not this.

Seonghwa takes a deep breath, letting go of him and moving to the door.

"I get it, San. You don't like me. Keep trying to get to you is totally useless."

The boy gets out of the room in silence, door closing with a soft  _ click _ before leaving San alone with his own words, still floating around the room. Hitting him back like knives, making him weak.

The tears fill his eyes before even knowing it.

_ Comeuppance.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F for San.


	8. eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 2 3 let's burn!  
answer soty  
hello again!! I'm amazed at myself, updating again, and now we're only 2 (or maybe 3, depends on next chapter) chapters away from the end :( good thing sanhwa is coming  
I loved writting this chapter because finally everything is starting to make sense for san and I hope you like it too!  
enjoy reading <3

It's been thirty minutes but Seonghwa hadn't come back into the room yet, making San a little unsteady, fingers taking a grip of the blanket. Nervousness is killing him, creeping his body, starting a fire on his brain that leaves him numb at first, alarms buzzing on his ears after a few seconds. 

It reaches his heart, making it painful. 

He doesn't understand why._ Why _ he is feeling this way lately, like chirps of electricity exploding on his fingertips every time he is face to face with Seonghwa. Mouth dry, sweaty hands. Heart racing so fast, it _ hurts. _

_ 'Keep trying to get to you is totally useless.' _

Words fall like daggers, piercing his skin. Seonghwa's eyes lost that spark the moment he started speaking, honey dripping without a sound, pearl gray taking everything like his eyes are a cloudy sky. It makes San weird inside, almost like if he feels… Guilty.

But they were always like this. Since they met. It's their thing, why does Seonghwa looked so sad? _ Why? _

There's a soft knock on the door that makes San jump out of bed, hands shaking, feet moving forward to the door. He has to bite down his tongue to not say something that can make things harder, even though he is a mess inside, sadness and madness mixing with a little bit of impotence. 

His chest shrinks when Yeosang pops his head inside the room, chestnut hair bouncing as he says his hello. Yeosang changed his clothes, wearing now a pale pink shirt with his name written — with a marker, space filled with flowers and little men dancing around — in the middle of it. 

San arches a brow, one hand scratching his chest over the fabric of his hoodie.

"Here you are," Yeosang hums, closing the door behind his back. "Hongjoong is making us customise our own friendship shirts," he explains and now San understands the shirt. "And lunch is in twenty minutes, so you should come down now." 

San sighs, covering his face with one hand, body finding the bed. Suddenly, he feels extremely tired. Like the past month lasted a whole year, punched his whole body. Everything happening at once, piece falling one by one just like a domino. As if that day, when Hongjoong revealed the roles, was the first piece falling down.

He wants to rest.

"San?" Yeosang sits down next to him, one hand firmly pressed on his shoulder. "Everything okay?"

_ Nothing is okay _, he wants to say. But he already said a lot just today.

"Tired," he mumbles. 

"Uh huh," Yeosang half hugs him, one arm around his shoulder, heads pressed together. He smells like vanilla, it's nice. "Seonghwa seemed a little sad while drawing little dicks on Mingi's shirt. Something happened between you two? Again, I mean."

San's response comes in a frown, head moving to have a better sight of the face of his friend. Yeosang is looking at him the same way he'd been doing for the past week: big sad eyes, a smirk on his lips, not really knowing if he feels bad for him or just wants everything to go back to normal.

"Not much," he lies, standing up because the weight on his chest is making him uncomfortable. It feels itchy, suffocating. He has to part his lips and take a big mouthful of air — that ends up getting stuck on his lips, piercing him like venom. He coughs.

"San, I know you," Yeosang sighs, soft smile edging his mouth. "And right now you are making the same face you've been doing lately every time we talked about Wooyoung. But sadder. It's like you've been on a rollercoaster that only goes down since Yunho's party."

That's a nice resume of how last month went. 

San turns around, lips pressed, jaws tightened. In one second, Yeosang's expression changes, worry painting his factions. He stands up, tilting his head.

"Hey," his hands fly to San's face, and for some reason, the boy can't help but melt into the touch, tears finally breaking through. He sobs quietly, letting Yeosang wrap him with his arms. "Hey, _ baby _, it's okay. Tell me what happens."

San gulps, saliva getting sticky on his throat. It's difficult to speak, but more difficult is to admit that he feels bad for being the one responsible of that expression being blooming on Seonghwa's face.

"San," Yeosang insists, rubbing his back. "You know I won't nag at you more than five minutes."

The boy giggles a little, chest shaking a little, San's own vibrating with laughter. Yeosang tickles his neck, hands pressed hard on both his cheeks. The smile bubbling on his lips makes San even more emotional, tears falling down his cheeks. 

Yeosang uses his thumbs to wipe the tears away.

"I've been hard to you, right?" He mumbles, sad eyes fluttering at San. "I'm sorry."

San shakes his head, softly pressing his hand on Yeosang's arm. He gives him a reassuring touch before moving back to the bed, wiping his tears away. "It's not you, Sang. It's me, I'm acting like an idiot."

"No," Yeosang sits down next to him again. 

"Do you think it's true?" The question catches Yeosang's interest. San bites his lip, gazing at his feet. "That I'm acting like a kid. With Seonghwa."

Yeosang presses his lips in a thin line.

"Both of you are the biggest idiots I've ever known. But you're not acting like a kid, you're just having a hard time understanding your feelings." 

San turns his head a little, nails scratching the skin of his fingers. 

"You knew Yunho likes Wooyoung, right?" 

That takes Yeosang a little by surprise, lips parting and air escaping them with a loud gasp. He frowns. 

"Of course you knew," San mumbles before he can even reply. "Why didn't you tell me it was Wooyoung?"

"Would that have changed your feelings for Yunho?" He ends up saying, sadness painting his voice.

The question floats around the room, head hurting. Confirming it doesn't hurt as much as he thinks, coming to think Yunho and Wooyoung met when they were kids, dancing together for almost half his life. Yunho is not crushing on Wooyoung, he has more deep feelings. Feelings San really never had time to root for him. 

Because he was focused on other things. His mind not fully centered on Yunho after all. 

He is not sad neither mad. The feeling whirling on his chest is more unknown than he thought. 

"No."

"Are you mad?" Yeosang whispers. "At Yunho? Wooyoung?"

San shakes his head without even knowing it.

"No," he repeats. "I'm not mad, but—"

"But?"

San fills his lungs before speaking, feeling the fire bubbles exploding on his nose, burning. "I think the person Seonghwa likes is Yunho. And for that he _ broke up _ with Wooyoung, but he told him something about me. Because he doesn't want anyone to find out and I was perfect to cover that, Wooyoung believed it and…" San bends over his body, fingers on his nape. "And he tried to be friends with me, so no one suspects a thing, I guess? Yet when I told him about Yunho and about doesn't believing all this shit… He got sad. And… And I don't feel well? Like I think I shouldn't have said a thing but I was… Mad?" San looks up, eyes finding Yeosang's plain expression, listening well to everything he has to say. He shakes his head again. "He was playing with me again, and I'm tired. And for some reason the fact he also likes Yunho is… Killing me."

"Hmm," Yeosang moves over the mattress, knees hitting San's. "You've been thinking a lot, right?"

San shrugs.

"One friend thought Seonghwa liked me, and I asked him," Yeosang's eyes widen, but San doesn't notice it. "But he said no."

Yeosang frowns first, chuckling a little after that. "Wait, that's why you are moping?"

"I mean—" he jumps on the bed, little annoyed at Yeosang's voice tone. "He kissed me! And… And I just thought it was real, that he was starting to like me for real… But he only wants to be good now that he is graduating."

He stands up once again, fingers threading on his head. His eyes find the ceiling, founding a little fly there.

"I should be mad at him for this, but I'm not. I'm not. And I feel so bad when I shouldn't and I don't know why," he gazes at Yeosang, jaws tightened again. "It's like lately everything is going wrong in my life and I don't have anyone to talk with because suddenly I'm the bad guy."

His arms fall next to his body, dead limbs hitting his torso like he finally gave up. But deep down, his mind is still working, still trying to find the answer to everything he has been feeling lately. Why he gets mad but still calls Seonghwa on the phone, why his body shake when they kiss, why he wants to say sorry when he is sure Seonghwa is just playing with him. 

Why he only fights back, when what he wants to do right now is lay in bed, between his arms. Feeling warm.

"San, listen to me," Yeosang puts both his hands over his shoulders, bringing him closer. He pulls San's body into a tight hug first, pinching his side then. San screeches, hitting him on the arm. "Wooyoung told me everything Seonghwa said to him that night, and remember I know all your not so secret _ secrets _. Seonghwa doesn't like Yunho, you idiot. But you know what I didn't expect at all?" San arches a brow, a little confused, a little scared. Yeosang smiles brightly. "You like Seonghwa!" 

The words slap him, legs moving so fast they're bumping in a second. San whines again, forehead hitting Yeosang's.

"What!?"

Yeosang rubs his forehead but still doesn't lose his smile. 

"You like Seonghwa," he repeats, San's body shaking alone. "You are hurt that he _ doesn't _ like you back and you're also mad that he _ likes _ Yunho (but he doesn't), that's why you are acting like this."

"I don't like him, idiot."

"Oh, man," Yeosang totally ignores him. "This is crazy. I mean, you were always fighting about the silliest things, even Jongho told me once that you two had a crazy chemistry but it was too obvious I didn't believe it. You liking Seonghwa? Ridiculous, you liked Yunho! But now I see it, why you liked Yunho?" Yeosang asks, bursting into laugh just a second after, tearing up a little. San can't believe he has such a friend. "Yunho was the only one that always defended you when Seonghwa pissed you off."

Yeosang's laughs fill the room. 

It buzzes on San's ears, making him think about it. Yunho is a kind soul. When they got into the club and he started fighting with Seonghwa, he was the only one that didn't roll his eyes and called him immature. He was there for him, rubbed his back and smiled. 

It made San warm. He made Yunho his safe spot from Seonghwa, the place to go when he was feeling that fire on his stomach. 

The one that kept San and Seonghwa away.

And with Yunho gone, with him kissing that person — _ Wooyoung _—, San didn't have anyone to go. And that burning feeling on his stomach… That lead to that kiss.

"Oh, fuck," he covers his mouth with one hand.

"Now, you realized," Yeosang laughs again. "This is so funny."

"Sang, you are being a bad friend right now." 

"Sorry, sorry. San you won, you got me with this," Yeosang lets out the air, hand on his heart. "But what an idiot you are."

"What did I just say?"

"Go talk with Seonghwa," he says, pointing at the door. "I bet he is hurt for real. Let him be your friend, he is nice."

Even if he finds it hard to believe it, San knows Seonghwa is really nice with the others. 

"You know who he likes," he affirms. 

"Yeah, but with these new information, I can't tell you."

San bites the inside of his cheek.

"But Wooyoung knows, if only you talk with him," San growls at that, finding it really difficult to have a conversation with Wooyoung right after what happened the other day. "Now, stop moping. You are a wonderful person, you just need to learn how to confront people. And I think Seonghwa can help you a lot."

San is not so sure about it. 

—

There's still ten minutes until food is served, the living room of the cottage filled with laughter and music. Mingi is signing from the top of his lungs, Yunho dancing around him, both of them wearing matching baby blue shirts with their names on it. San looks around the room, being unnoticed. Yeosang gives him another reassuring pat before jumping where the rest are.

He spots Seonghwa after a while, sitting in a table far from the party, still working on his shirt. Taking a deep breath, hands closed in fists, San starts walking towards the table. Legs like jelly. 

_ I can't fucking believe I like that dumb idiot. _

"Here you are!" San is stopped, hand on his wrist. When he turns around, he finds Hongjoong half covered in colored shirts. He is also wearing one, white filled with colors and drawings, one cheek stained in the same green Mingi's name is written. "Pick a color, you are the last one and I have to give this back. Don't you dare say no, I already fought with Wooyoung. Pick."

San sighs, taking half minute to pick the color he likes: purple.

"Nice boy," Hongjoong winks at him, changing the weight of the shirts from one arm to both of them. "Write your name and try not to let Yeosang draw a drumstick, he is not so gifted in the artistic environment."

Hongjoong exits the living room with a loud laugh, obviously in a better mood than before. It makes San smile a little. Hongjoong is a nice person, he deserves being happy after all. 

With that and his shirt, he walks where Seonghwa is sitting. Determined, but also scared because he has his eyebrows pointing down as he finishes his shirt.

San stands by the edge, Seonghwa peeking at him through his lashes. He looks pissed off. 

"Can," he starts, but his voice decides to abandon him at the wrong moment, sounding like a preteen. Seonghwa purses his lips, trying so hard to not mention it, doing something nice for the first time and letting him talk. San can feel how his cheeks go red, hot. "Can I sit?"

_ I want to die. _

Seonghwa shrugs, marker moving smoothly over the shirt fabric. Is pale pink as Yeosang's, filled with a weird mix of little dicks that have Mingi's name all over it and other things that aren't dicks but look totally like that. There are also little flowers that seem to be from Yunho’s.

So San decides to sit in front of him as Seonghwa did on the bus hours ago, picking a black marker to write his name on the shirt. He is not satisfied with the shaking fingers that make his name all wavy.

They don't say a thing for about two minutes, driving San crazy. 

"I want to apologise," he blurts when Seonghwa asks him for the black marker. "For what I said before. I spoke out of madness and it wasn't right."

Seonghwa tilts his head, dark eyes piercing San. The younger feels his mouth go dry, nervous fingers spilling all the markers when he tries to pick the blue marker. 

"Fuck."

"Let me draw on your shirt," Seonghwa's voice is sharp, demanding fingers moving in the air. San doesn't doubt, giving it to him, eyes fixed on his movements. Seonghwa writes first, drawing something then. When he gives it back, a smug smile is dancing on his lips.

San feels that burning sensation again at the sight of the _ 'Choi San is the biggest idiot on planet' _ next to a little angry bird.

"You are acting like a kid," he mutters under his breath.

"I can act whatever I want, San. Now, if you excuse me."

"Wait," San's high pitched voice attacks again, moving one seat closer, both hand on his thigh, stopping him from moving. Seonghwa frowns. "Please, let me speak." 

The boy sits down again, crossing his arms. 

"I want to be your friend," he starts, which surprises Seonghwa. "I'm just insecure, it takes me a lot to trust a person and you, well, it's so hard trusting you after these two years."

"Great apology."

"Please, don't interrupt. What I'm trying to say is that everything seems weird. Whatever you told Wooyoung on the party… The kiss, the whole let's be friends thing. I don't understand it. I thought you were joking—"

"Why would I joke with that?" Seonghwa cuts off.

San blinks. "Because that's our thing."

Seonghwa seems to accept that, pressing his lips together but putting a hand over one of San's thigh. He gives him a soft pat. "I guess it's also my fault," San feels relieved for a second, pain slowly fading away. "That doesn't mean I'm not mad at you. I have feelings, you know."

"I know."

San can't keep looking at him, gaze falling to his hands. He catches how Seonghwa's hand is still laying on his thigh, fingers slowly moving. 

_ 'You like Seonghwa.' _

When did that happen? 

"What you said about the graduation," San starts with a soft whisper.

"It's true. My dad already found me a place to practice during the summer. If everything goes well, I can start working at the end of the summer," he explains, pain coming back into San's chest. "I have to go back to Jinju."

"That's only two hours and a half from Seoul," San mumbles. "We can still see each other, don't need to be so dramatic about it."

Seonghwa laughs, dry, throwing his head back. "Don't fool yourself, Idiot San. I know you don't like me, I get it, not gonna get mad at you for that. Even if we become friends, we will grow apart. We will forget about each other. The only thing I want is to take a good memory with everyone before going, that's all." 

San rubs his hands together, nodding a little. 

"Okay. I'm sorry for acting like that."

"I'm sorry for calling you a good for nothing, you are really good at some things, like driving me crazy."

San frowns, but Seonghwa is laughing already. His eyes curve and disappear, the sadness staying there. On his nose, his lips, his skin. San purses his lips, holding a cry. 

"Let me draw on your shirt again," Seonghwa asks, San finding two mountains and a little sun between them just on top of his name after a few minutes.

San draws a little star on one of the sleeves of Seonghwa's shirt, right next where Hongjoong wrote _ "dumb bird". _

—

The food is nice, tasty, interesting. Seonghwa sits at his right, telling him everything he knows about the mountains — which is a lot —, eyes sparkling again, like nothing happened.. He really likes the mountain, and San is happy he can smile like that. That he is comfortable. That everything is solved, in some way.

Yeosang sits in front of him, smirking throughout the whole lunch so San has to kick him under the table in several occasions. Hongjoong is the last on their table, making things easier for San, because they talk about the play.

After lunch, they all move outside. The same woman that received them is waiting for them to start what she calls the first game of bonding. _ Trust. _

"We're gonna start with something basic. Get on pairs," they pair by roommates. "Now, stand in front of your partner, giving them your back," San stands, totally knowing where she is going. And he doesn't like it at all, "and close your eyes. You will fall and trust your partner to pick you." Typical.

"Excuse me," Mingi raises his hand in the air, "can I change my partner? I don't think Yeosang's noodle arms will be able to hold my whole body."

"Hey!" Yeosang frowns from behind him. "Wait for these noodle arms to choke you."

They end up exchanging partners with Yunho and Wooyoung. 

"Hey, San," Yeosang moves from his spot, leaving Wooyoung hanging, just to fly around San with a mischievous grin, "are you ready to fall on Seonghwa's arms?"

"Go back to your spot, noodle arms."

Yeosang winks at him, jumping back where Wooyoung is waiting. 

"And it's _ Seonghwa hyung _ for you," Seonghwa late replies, hands on San's shoulders. "C'mon, let's do this fast so I can go explore."

San looks at the front, watching how Jongho easily catches Hongjoong and Ryujin lets Jisung fall into the ground. He gulps.

"Please, don't let me fall."

"Trust me more," Seonghwa sighs, a little tiredness painting his voice. 

San closes his eyes, legs shaking as he lets his body move backwards. Is hard to trust Seonghwa, but he stills does it. He waits for the impact, only to find a comfortable spot on Seonghwa's arms. His hands hold him tightly, head bumping with his chest. 

Looking up, he finds Seonghwa smirking at him. "Easy. Now your turn."

San crawls to his back, getting ready to pick him. Seonghwa lets his body fall without a doubt, catching San by surprise, head hitting his shoulder. Still, his body is lighter that he thought, fitting on his arms like he was made for it. 

"Great," Seonghwa jumps, arms on his waist. "I'm gonna ask her if I can go now. Wanna come with me?"

San shakes his head fast. He doesn't want to get lost in the woods, and less with Seonghwa next to him. He has a lot to think about now and his heart won't stop racing. Making music out of his tragedy.

With Yunho he felt safe. With Seonghwa, he is about to die from a cardiac attack. 

In the end, Seonghwa has to stay because they'll be doing more bonding. Like sitting around in a circle and say out loud something they would want someone of the club to change, like Hongjoong:

"Seonghwa, you are my best friend, but it annoys me the way you always skip rehearsals. You are the main character, we need you."

And Seonghwa:

"I listened to your heart, and I will try to change it," Seonghwa rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath right after. “This is ridiculous.”

Or Yeosang: 

"I hate that Mingi is always putting chocolate on my bag."

And Mingi:

"Fuck you, Yeosang, where did friendship go?"

And Hongjoong:

"We said no insults, we are trying to understand each other better!"

And San feels like this is going to take way longer than he thought. 

They go one by one, until it's San's turn. He licks his lips, looking at every member of the club. The club he loves, the persons that became his family. His eyes find Wooyoung, and Yunho. And the dirt under his crossed legs.

"Hmm, Hongjoong," he says in a mumble, shrugging a little, "I'm sorry for giving you more work than you need. I'll work hard to make your life easier."

Hongjoong blinks, scratching his nape.

"Thanks, San. I appreciate it a lot, but you are supposed to say something that annoys you."

"Oh, hmm, then," he looks around. "Yeosang."

Everyone burst into laughs, Mingi falling backwards and hitting his head with a branch, which produces even more laughing. In the middle of everything, Yeosang screams "What is your problem with me? I will fight all of you." 

—

After dinner, San takes a shower with Mingi. It's been so long since they had a talk, so they take their time and San feels better listening to his best friend rant about how he broke his bed while jumping out of excitement — he got the tickets to see his favorite band live — but Seonghwa believed it was while having sex with Hongjoong and vetoed sex on the apartment. So they have to meet on Hongjoong’s car now and he is suffering from back pain.

Mingi doesn't ask a thing about his relationship with Wooyoung, San is thankful for that. He washes his hair and San rubs his back while they chat. 

"We are going to have some drinks on the living room," Mingi says, towel on his hair. 

San shrugs a little, already walking out of the bathroom. "I had a bad day, so I think I will be going to sleep."

"Really? Loser."

"Fuck you," San smiles, fist bumping him before entering the room. His hair is dripping wet, droplets falling over his shoulders. He screams, hitting his elbow with the doorknob. "Fucking shit!"

Seonghwa is standing in the middle of the room, only on his underwear.

"Be quiet, it's late," the boy laughs a little, putting on his pants. “Poor elbow of yours.”

"What are you doing naked?" San turns around, fingers tightly pressed on his arm. Blood rushing. 

Seonghwa giggles. "I'm still wearing my underwear but if you really want to go all the way down—"

"No! Just put on your pajama!" 

It takes just a minute, Seonghwa jumping on his bed then and allowing San to finally move to his own bed. "You're not going with the rest?" Seonghwa asks, looking at him from above his phone, lightning his face in a funny way. “Yeonsang brought a bottle of something hard enough to make you go blind.”

San shakes his head. "I'm tired. What about you?"

"I almost died on the last party I attended, so I'll be saying no," he looks directly into his phone. "Also, we made out in a bathtub. That was crazy." 

It sure was. 

Seonghwa laughs a little, rolling on bed. His pajama is elegant, silky. Nothing compared to San's childish one, covered in little dogs. He feels embarrassed to walk around like that while Seonghwa looks like a king.

San gets in bed, giving Seonghwa his back. And waits for his brain to finally shut down.

"You didn't want to say something to me?" Seonghwa's voice breaks the silence a few minutes after. San's eyes flutter open, finding the wall. 

"Hmm?"

"Earlier, during the _ bonding game _. I'm all ears if you want to say something."

San rolls in bed, facing him. Seonghwa is still sitting, one leg bent, resting his arm over the knee. He has his shirt unbuttoned, just one button, but enough to make San a little nervous. 

"No," he whispers. 

"Are you sure?" San nods, closing his eyes again. "I have something to say to you, though."

San opens his eyes as fast as he closed them, curiosity hitting his back enough to make him sit down on the mattress. 

"Okay."

Seonghwa takes a deep breath before parting his lips. "I hate the way you come to me. On the phone, or kissing me. Just to then push me away. I don’t care if you want to hold my hand or whatever, just don’t treat me like I’m a robot."

San gulps. "You said you didn't like me."

Seonghwa wrinkles his nose, putting his phone down. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Hmm," San shrugs. "We shouldn't kiss. Or hold hands. Or whatever you did with Wooyoung."

Seonghwa smirks, electric shot going down his spinal cord.

"Why?"

"Why?" San scoffs, pinching his nose bridge. "Because we are not… A couple."

"That's not an impediment, you know," San blinks, remaining silent, at which Seonghwa rolls his eyes. "We had to kiss during rehearsals, I don't mind kissing you. Call it practice, call it being good friends."

San reminds Minho's words, squinting at him. The beds are so close that if he stretches his leg, they would be touching.

"Are you searching for another friends with benefits?"

Seonghwa laughs. "No. I'm just saying that we had to kiss either way. I'm not gonna push you if you want to kiss, but I can't stand the way you play with my poor heart," he takes both hands to his heart, half joking. "Don't make that face. Come here," Seonghwa pats the mattress next to him, "let's have a talk."

"About what?"

Seonghwa shrugs. "The _ mountain _." 

San rolls his eyes but still moves, jumping from one bed to another, feet sinking on the mattress next to Seonghwa. He trips, knees hitting Seonghwa's, both of them screeching in pain. Seonghwa's hands fall on San's hips, pulling him aside. "Clumsy."

San snorts.

He places himself next to him, covering his body with the blanket.

They chat a little about the stars and how to orientate looking at them. Seonghwa tells him about his summers running around the woods, climbing the trees and scratching his knees. It's nice, San feels a little bubbly inside, warm. And nervous. Losing himself in a train of thoughts that’s going nowhere. 

"And that's how I lost my virginity," Seonghwa says, San blinking, confused. "It's a joke. You're not listening to me."

San pouts. "Of course I am."

"What did I just say?"

He is blank.

"See? What's worrying you?"

"It's nothing," San breathes, feet finding Seonghwa's leg. "I was just thinking about last month, and how talking with you helped me a lot. That's why I've called you the night I confessed to Yunho, because somehow you make me feel like I'm important. Which is funny, because we never had a real conversation before but… I had no one to talk, I was alone. But you… You were there for me. I'm sorry for pushing you away, though. I'm getting some problems understanding my own feelings," he explains, ending with Yeosang's words. He was right about that. San doesn't have a clue about what's going on.

Seonghwa moves a little, one hand on his hair, softly rubbing.

"Thanks for telling me. I'm glad I could be your emotional support boy for a night."

"On Yunho's birthday… You also helped me. I felt like someone finally cared about me."

Seonghwa moves his hand, placing it on San's chin, making him look at him. But Seonghwa stares, eyes slightly moving down to his lips, heart almost jumping out of his chest.

"San, I already told you before, but do you know why do I _ hated _ you so much?" San shakes his head. "You are amazing. Good actor, good person. A little bit annoying, but not everyone is perfect. You should love yourself a little more, because everything about you is incredible."

He smirks, squishing his cheeks with one hand. San pouts, "what are you implying?"

Seonghwa leans in, nose slightly brushing San's skin. San closes his eyes. He waits for his lips to meet, softly. But the only thing he feels is Seonghwa's breath tickling his lips, a little refreshing, making his whole body shiver with electricity.

"That you are cute," Seonghwa hums, placing a softly kiss on the edge of his mouth, body melting at the single touch. 

San breathes, one thought crossing his mind, fleeting as a shooting star. Bubbling on his mind, threads joining by its ends. He places one hand on Seonghwa's cheek, caressing him. Everything starts making sense.

He hated the fact Wooyoung was asking Seonghwa out, not because he hated Seonghwa but because, deep down, he couldn't stand losing him. Even if he never had him. 

Yeosang is right. 

"Are you going to kiss me?" Seonghwa laughs a little, vibrations reaching San's lips, tickling him. Making him close the gap between them.

San knows he said it as a joke, but he doesn't care. Body moving along, arms wrapping around his neck, lips molding together with the delicacy of a feather reaching the floor. 

Seonghwa replies to the kiss immediately, like he was waiting for that, the hand on his chin moving to his waist, fingers touching his skin. Cold. The older boy moves smoothly, hands quickly holding him close and pushing him down. San's back suddenly meets the mattress, sheets getting tangled on his legs, that also get tangled with Seonghwa's. Their bodies press together, lips parting just to take a little bit of air.

San doesn't open his eyes, preferring the darkness of his eyelids than reality. He doesn't want to confront Seonghwa now, because he is feeling everything at once. All the things his brain decided to ignore until now. 

This is crazy.

Seonghwa's lips press against the skin of his cheek, loud and strong. One, two and three times, smile curving his lips as he keeps on smooching him. It makes San giggle under him, finally opening his eyes. "Stop," he asks without no authority, hands over his face to hide his blush again. Seonghwa kisses the back of his hand.

"You really want me to stop? You are acting all cute for a reason."

San shakes his head, peeking through his fingers. He can see how the boy's cheek are painted in a beautiful shade of pink, blonde hair scattered all over his forehead, almost hiding bis eyes.

"Only if you want," he breathes, enough to make their lips meet again.

It's different to every kiss they had until now. The ones they shared during rehearsals, and the ones they did not. The bathtub kiss was rough, it left him on shambles, barely feeling his legs. The kiss on the dressing room was exciting, acting all out of passion. 

This is soft, is Seonghwa holding his hand and circling his skin with his thumb. Is their lips meeting feverishly, taking more time on his cheeks, neck and nose. Is Seonghwa asking for a back rub and San falling asleep there, fingers still interlaced.

In a way, it kind of feels like a goodbye kiss, just after they say hello. 

—

Morning comes with a warm feeling covering his chest. Blinking repeatedly, San realizes they're on the cottage. And that there's an arm around his waist, pulling him close. When he turns around, still half asleep, he finds Seonghwa's calm sleeping face. Cheek pressed into his shoulder.

_ Wow. _

He freaks out, jumping out of the bed. Well, he tries. Seonghwa's grip stopping him and making his whole body crash into the mattress, pajama pants sliding down. He freaks out even more, wiggling his legs to get off the trap these arms are, pulling his pants up and hitting his head with the wall. 

He cries out a little, body shaped like a ball at the end of the bed.

All the noise and movement finally wakes Seonghwa up. The boy sits down, eyes closed and hair a mess, shirt falling down his shoulder, showing more skin than needed. He frowns, not opening his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?" He growls, deep morning voice taking San by surprise, head moving up to look at him. "It's so early, idiot." 

San crawls until his feet touch the cold floor of the room, fingers still rubbing his forehead. His eyes are glued to Seonghwa's pouty lips and morning blush. Blonde hair makes him even cuter.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm— I'm gonna go brush my teeth."

Seonghwa mumbles something San doesn't gets as he quickly goes back to bed, covering his head with the blanket. San sprints out of the room, gasping a little.

Memories of last night curving the edges of his lips into a smile. 

"Good morning, Sani," Yunho exits his room at the same time, giving him a shy smile. 

"M—Morning. Are you cold? Is so cold here!" 

"Our room had an air conditioner."

"Ah, yeah, ours too. But Seonghwa didn't want to turn it on," San fakes laughs, feet starting to make its way to the shared bathroom, where Yunho is supposedly going too, but San needs a time alone. "I need to go. I'll see you later."

Yunho waves at him, standing in front of his door for a couple seconds more, San already washing his face with cold water. 

He thinks. About last night, their conversation about the stars, their kisses, their smooches. The way they held hands like nothing happened. Seonghwa claimed to be mad, but he opened to San like nothing really happened. 

Like he really wants a good memory before graduating. Makes San a little sad, a little warm again. 

He looks at his reflection on the mirror.

_ Stupid Yeosang. _

If only he hadn't say a damn thing.

"Good morning, San," Jongho crawls into the bathroom next, hand on his mouth. "Please, don't let me alone with Mingi and Yeosang ever again."

San comes back to the room after patting Jongho's back as he threw up everything they had last night. Seonghwa is sitting by the edge of the bed when he enters the room, rubbing one of his eyes with his hand. 

"Morning," he mumbles. "I dreamt about you falling out of bed."

"Almost did," San sighs, picking up his clothes. "You should clean your face. Or take a shower."

Seonghwa raises his head to look at him, eyes almost closed. They stay like that for a second before Seonghwa stands up and walks right to him; San can't help but get nervous. 

"You have freckles," he mutters. 

"What?"

Slowly, Seonghwa puts a hand on his neck, moving it along his skin. Lazy.

"On your neck," he stops for a good second, yawning. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

He drags his feet out of the room, leaving San there with shaky legs. He takes one hand to his neck, fingers pressing softly, skin warm.

—

Yeosang laughs so hard he falls into his knees, being the first time in their lives seeing him so giggly. San doesn't understand what's happening until he is looking down at his shirt. 

It's not purple, is pink.

San takes Yeosang with him into the living room, crashing with Mingi as he enters the dining hall. It's only 8:30 in the morning and San is already stressed. 

"I'm gonna assume you decided to stop being a dick to take some dick," Yeosang says when he finally stops laughing, which makes him laughs even more. 

San puts a hand over his mouth.

"Shut up! This is just an error, I picked the wrong shirt," he scoffs, at which Yeosang smugly rolls his eyes. "For real, Yeosang. Don't make me hit you." 

He slowly lets him go, looking down at Seonghwa's shirt. He is wearing his shirt, cologne not bugging him at all because they sleep together. Almost cuddling. _ Ugh. _

"Neither of you came yesterday to our little party. Were you fucking?"

"No!" San hisses.

"Why are you wearing his shirt then?" Yeosang grins.

_ So annoying. _

"I just picked the first thing I saw, okay?" 

Yeosang tilts his head.

"You were nervous, huh?"

"Yes!"

"Because he sucked you off."

"Because thanks to you now I can't look at him in the eye without remembering every single time I thought I hated him but it was just me being jealous without noticing," he says, jaws tightened. He covers his face with both his hands, turning on his heels. "I'm a mess Yeosang. I don't know how to act and he is graduating in two months."

"What about that? He's not dying. Or is he?" Yeosang widen his eyes, taking a step forward. 

"Fuck, no. But he is going back to Jinju, and he doesn't like me at all. He just wants good memories and I can't fall for him now, I just can't."

"How are you so sure he doesn't like you? C’mon"

"That's not important."

Yeosang parts his lips, a little bit confused, but can't start again because Seonghwa itself is walking into the living room with a toast on his hand. He has his hair hidden under a black beanie, tired eyes and, of course, wearing San's shirt. 

He points at him with one hand.

"Here you are. Thanks to you I had to tell everyone we are bonding and sharing clothes. Hongjoong liked it so much that is making everyone exchange shirts," he points at Yeosang then, "Mingi is searching for you."

"What? He's gonna wear my shirt like a crop top," Yeosang frowns at San, "now we're gonna have to see him walk around half naked thanks to you."

San sighs, eyes finding Seonghwa. 

The older boy smiles, cheeks full of food. "You look nice," he says after swallowing, "pink suits you." 

San gasps. 

"Toast?" Seonghwa offers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: @bubblesani <3


	9. nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at some point I started singing mist while writing this
> 
> I'm back and I'll be brief: we are just now one chapter away from the end, and I'm sure this chapter will make you think "fuck u blai there's at least 45 more chapter right?"  
well, who knows  
I hope you enjoy this!! <3
> 
> I added some new tags give them a look! 
> 
> also if you haven't seen it yet, Rob make me this amazing [moodboard](https://twitter.com/bubblesani/status/1215350566752260097) I love you Rob <3

"This is the most ridiculous thing we've ever done, and I remember Yeosang's birthday party from two years ago," Jongho breaks the silence after what it seems an eternity, feeling suffocated in Hongjoong's shirt, fork scratching the now empty plate. His eyes move around the desk until he finds his victim. "You are dead to me, Choi San."

Sitting two sites to his left, San goes red. He is still wearing Seonghwa's  _ bonding  _ shirt and just because of his mistake, now everyone is wearing their partner's clothes. Which is weird because Mingi and Yunho are literally walking around with his tummy on sight — Mingi looks comfortable, but Yunho has been trying to cover his navel with no success for the past ten minutes — while Yeosang and Wooyoung sink on their shirts, looking extremely cute to be honest. 

Seonghwa is sitting next to him, eating his third toast without even joking around. Past Seonghwa wouldn't have missed the chance to piss him off; this Seonghwa just seems like a new man. It's incredible what the mountain can do, San thinks.

"We don't talk about my 18th birthday party," Yeosang shakes his head, wrinkling his nose. "Mingi did you sleep with the shirt on? This is all sweaty." 

"Don't lie!"

Mingi points at him with his spoon, receiving nothing more but a fake gag from Yeosang. 

Breakfast ends at exactly 9 A.M, everyone moving outside again. This time, the woman in charge of the cottage has a box full of papers in front of her, accompanied by a big smile she gives Hongjoong a wink that can't mean something good. Once they are all there, she starts explaining what are they doing on the morning. 

"Good morning, I hope you slept well. Since you are leaving in the afternoon, I wanted to make a little orientation game before the last bonding game, to make things more entertaining."

Everyone cheers at that, everyone but one person, who quickly looks for Hongjoong with his gaze. San can feel how his stomach swirls around at the thought of having to get into the woods. He's gonna get lost and die and all that without talking with Wooyoung.  _ Fucking orientation, are you serious? _

"Don't worry," Seonghwa whispers, finger sheepishly touching his hand without someone noticing. "I'm the master of orientation, remember?"

Sincerely, San doesn't know if getting lost  _ with _ Seonghwa will be better than getting lost alone and die.

"The game is about finding a treasure," the woman explains, taking one piece of paper and showing it to them. It's a treasure map. "You will be going on pairs, there's a treasure for everyone so don't worry, this is all to have fun and fill your lungs with the natural air. But you have until lunch to come back with the treasure. Now I'll be calling the pairs."

Seonghwa freezes next to San, awkward smile curving his lips, realizing they might not be together in this. "So maybe you die today."

"Thanks for your support," San snorts, pinching his nose.

"San and Yeosang," the woman calls first. 

Relief takes over San. Out of everyone, Yeosang is the best one — after orientation master Seonghwa, of course. He starts walking to where the woman is and so does Yeosang, holding hands as soon as they're there just to fall in despair one second later.

"San and Yeosang," she repeats with a sweet voice, gazing at her shirts. San slowly looks down at his pink shirt. "Seonghwa and Mingi, please wait for your turn."

San turns his head to Hongjoong. "What?"

_ Oh, fuck. _

"It was your idea," he smiles, crossing his arms over his chest, shirt so big for him he had to tied down the end at his waist. "Now, San, Yeosang, go find your treasure."

Seonghwa smiles, looking down at the purple shirt he is wearing, high fiving Mingi then on their way to the treasure. Roommates. That's not fair. San waits until she is calling out Seonghwa's name, but the partner he gets is not making it better. "Seonghwa and Yunho."

San finds Wooyoung on his right, eyes meeting for a brief second before his  _ friend _ is lowering his head and walking forward. San looks back, Hongjoong moving his hands so he starts walking. It takes him about half minute for his legs to actually move, following Wooyoung. 

This is about to get wrong,  _ really wrong. _

—

They walk in utterly silence for about ten minutes, San following Wooyoung's steps, feeling his heart die with every step he takes inside the tiny forest, looking around with both hands glued to his chest. At least, Wooyoung looks confident, knowing how to read the map — which doesn't seem to be so hard —, doesn't doubting in which direction they should take.

San's hands had been sweating since they started walking, Yeosang's words buzzing on his ears. He needs to confront Wooyoung. But, how? He can't do it in the middle of this stupid orientation because Wooyoung is most likely to push him into a bush and ran away — leaving him alone to die and honestly, if this whole shit problem ends up killing him, he prefers to die on a place where they can find his corpse (maybe he also being a little dramatic).

"Hmm," Wooyoung stops, trembling voice popping San's truck of thoughts, searching for him over his shoulder. San's heart skips a beat when they lock gazes, Wooyoung's eyes sparkling. "I think we are lost." 

"What?" The word slips through his lips before he can even think of something smart to say. He looks around, there's only trees and silence around them. His worst fear. So he really is dying today. "No, no, no, no. Wait a moment, Wooyoung, wait."

San is panicking. 

His body tenses as he reaches out for Wooyoung, without even noticing what he is doing until he is already crashing into Wooyoung's chest. He hugs him, hands shaking. "We are gonna die."

That's the thing about San, he doesn't think a lot about the things he does. And maybe that's the reason his friendship with Wooyoung is hanging from a thin thread, because he really didn't stop to think and just got inside that bathtub with Seonghwa. 

"San, relax," Wooyoung sighs, arms in the air, not sure if he should hug him. And San, he finally realizes what he is doing. His cheeks go red, hand softly pressed against his chest. Wooyoung presses his lips together, avoiding his face. "This is a small forest. We just need to go back and we'll find the cottage. Without the treasure, but—"

"I'm sorry," San babbles, feet scratching the ground as he moves back. He feels his heart sink when he opens his eyes again and finds Wooyoung's eyes fixed on him. For the first time in what it seems years. It hurts, how much he can miss a person that's not gonne. Right in front of him, fingers almost brushing, yet so far away from each other. He bites the inside of his cheek as Wooyoung doesn't say a thing,  _ blue eyes _ sparkling with tears. "I'm so sorry," San sniffles in silence, stepping backwards, head falling to the ground. "For everything that happened to us." 

San's voice floats around them for a while, followed by the calm chirp of the birds and the sound of nature twisting. It's feels almost like a dream, he standing in front of his friend like that after almost a month without even greeting each other during breakfast. 

He feels weak, legs trembling a little, but he also feels braver than ever. Like he is able to tell Wooyoung everything, like his friend won't scream at him, cry at him, break in front of him again — claim it to the forest, the fact they are lost and that he loves Wooyoung enough to put all his pride or whatever that has been holding him back and just say sorry before  _ dying. _

"I didn't mean to—"

"Yunho told me," Wooyoung breaks a little, chest swelling with a new mouthful of air. "About how you confessed to him."

"Did he?"

Wooyoung nods, one finger under his nose.

"Yeah," then he makes a pause, feet moving over the dirt covering the forest floor. He makes a little draw there, silence piercing San's heart with every passing second. "And I've been thinking a lot about it for the past days. I know you,  _ Sani _ , you're my best friend. I know that if you liked Yunho… Your thing with Seonghwa couldn't be real. At least, before he rejected me."

San takes a deep breathe, feet quickly jumping to grab one of Wooyoung's hands. He gulps.

"You're my best friend, Wooyoung," he repeats his words, but he means it with his heart. "Meeting you was one of the things I cherish the most from my college life. When I was feeling homesick, you were there for me, hugging me until I stopped crying. And when I told you about the drama club, you supported me the most. I always thought Mingi was my only best friend, that you were just another person passing by in my life but… After this month, I realized you mean to me more than anyone. That if you hurt, I hurt. And that if I'm the one hurting you, then nothing else matters. I'm doomed. I love you so much, I'd never… Never, hurt you. Not intentionally. So please—"

Tears crowd on his eyes, Wooyoung crying in front of him. Both of them crying, San looking at him through blurry tears, voice dying inside his throat. He is the one, incredible, who hugs San first. Tightly, warm again. San can feel how his chest shakes with his sobs and with his hands around Wooyoung's waist, he finally feels like breathing again.

"Seonghwa told me," Wooyoung hiccups, "that he is in love  _ with you _ . That he can't date me because the one he's been in love for years, is you. I'm so sorry, Sani. I thought he loved me, I was so mad at you, at him, I didn't really stopped thinking. I'm so sorry for getting mad."

San stops listening at some point, the loudness of his own words being too painful to even pay attention to Wooyoung's mumbles. Seonghwa is in love with him.

_ Seonghwa what? _

His stomach twirl, but he doesn't know if it's because that's a good new or the worst of them all.

"I'm happy that you two are together, though," Wooyoung hugs him tightly, forehead pressed to San's shoulder so when he speaks, he does literally over his skin. "I don't want to be mad at you anymore, I want to be happy for you, I—"

"We're not together," San corrects, moving a little and proceeding to hold his face with both his hands. He shakes the numbness of his expression first, thumbs cleaning Wooyoung's warm tears then, softly kissing his cheek as they used to do every day before going to class, playing the fifty years old married couple. "I don't know what we are," he whispers, holding his heart tight, and he has to admit he is a little scared. The smile that curves the edges of his mouth is totally fake, but it makes Wooyoung smile a little again, and that's the only thing that matters. "I just want us to be fine. You and me." 

He raises up his pinky, and it takes Wooyoung a second to catch it with his own. They stare at each other in silence before hugging again, more tenderly, San's gray eyes getting lost in the horizon.

"Please, don't leave me again," Wooyoung says.

San closes his eyes.

—

The way the water falls over his shoulders is everything but relaxing. 

After finishing the treasure hunting — that took them almost one hour and a half because they lost on their way back too, having to wait for Mingi and Seonghwa to pick them up — they all shared food together. Wooyoung was finally clinging onto him, holding onto his hand and making jokes again, trying to hit Mingi every time he came up with his little keychain — that was the treasure — to mock him for getting lost. No one wondered what happened in the woods, but Hongjoong couldn't hide his smile for the whole lunch.

San was happy they could be together again, but at the same time, he couldn't focus. 

More bonding games came after food, San having to take care of an egg with a funny face painted on its shell with Mingi for forty five minutes — and crying its loss when Mingi throws it on the floor on minute forty four. He saw how Wooyoung touched Seonghwa's shoulder, calling him to talk.

He didn't see them again after that, getting rid of Seonghwa's shirt after all day and putting a foot inside the shower. Thinking. Maybe Wooyoung went to make truce with him as well, maybe he just tells Seonghwa what he told San.

Body tense, sparkles of curiosity biting his skin like tiny ants. He just found it yesterday: he likes Seonghwa, he has been liking him for so long he doesn't even remember when it all started nor why his brain decided to hide it in one dark corner for so long. And now, the words slip through Wooyoung's lips.

_ Seonghwa is in love with you. _

It's impossible. 

He could have treated him better, he could have told him. Instead, he mocked him for years, fucked with Wooyoung. The only reason he's being nice is because he's graduating… Right?

San shakes his head, finally turning the water off as Mingi presses his face on the glass and asks him to leave — more like he begs him in the name of their dead baby egg. He dries his hair as Mingi starts a high pitched song about love, bumping shoulders with Hongjoong as he exits the bathroom. 

Hongjoong's cheeks shine in bright pink when their eyes meet, but San is not really paying attention. Whatever. He is so vague he doesn't even remember to take his clothes to the bathroom, having to walk into the room with only a towel around his waist.

Thank God there's no one on the aisle to see him — but there's a Seonghwa reading a book on his bed, already changed into comfortable clothes to take the bus back home again.

As he shuts the door at his back, Seonghwa's eyes meet him. Bare chest, hair slightly dripping wet over his shoulders. 

_ Seonghwa is in love with you. _

He can't contain the way his cheeks fill, blood rushing through his ears and neck, both hands covering his pectorals as he tries to search for his clothes. Seonghwa remains silent for what it seems an eternity, eyes closely following every movement. 

San tries to act normal, but it's impossible for him. His own feelings are new to him but, Seonghwa? Does this mean all the things he did for him was because he is in love with him? He puts on his pants with little jumps, thinking on all the times they kissed and he thought it was nothing. Was it really nothing?

As he pulls his shirt down his head, nose slightly getting stuck with the collar, his eyes find him. His heart skips a beat, being attacked by a sudden — and strangely warm — wave of melancholy. Looking at Seonghwa, the way his soft blonde hair falls which such delicacy over his forehead and hides his eyebrows, he feels like reaching out to him is way easier than he thought. That they can talk like friends, sit on the same bed and enjoy each other's company. Telling him without things getting weird, because they don't actually have  _ things _ to get weird.

He feels like trusting him for the first time in years.

"What happens?" Seonghwa says then, voice splattering like soap bubbles around the room, exploding right in front of San's face. 

San sucks in a breathe, finally pulling his shirt down. 

"Nothing," he puts on his socks, sitting by the edge of the bed, proceeding to put on his shoes then. Seonghwa keeps on staring at him, making his blood rush on his veins, painting the tip of his ears under the wet hair. He stands up in a rush, not being able of remaining there sitting.

The room has literally nothing more than two beds and a wardrobe. Running away would be suspicious but standing in the middle of the room makes him feel like he's totally naked, Seonghwa wrinkling his nose in his direction. 

"Seonghwa, I'm—" 

He ponders for a second. Tell him or not. Break the magical spell that's been keeping him so low yet so high since Yunho's birthday party or just keep on going with whatever they have. 

"Did Wooyoung tell you something?" Seonghwa moves on the mattress, panic dancing on his eyes. He observes San so carefully it makes his body shrink in front of him, feeling the tiniest he had ever felt in front of Seonghwa. 

San takes a deep breathe. For the first time in the whole day, his foggy mind meets the sun and starts working faster than ever. He reaches a dead end, eyes meeting Seonghwa's. He is graduating soon, why make things harder? 

"What?" He puts on his best mad expression, narrowing his eyes in his direction meanwhile every cell of his body screams at him that he is just making things harder for  _ himself. _ He doesn't care. "Is there something he should have told me? Are you trying to put tabasco on my lunch again?" 

Being the great actor he is, San is able to put on a mask and frown at Seonghwa, immediately putting his fist up. Inside, he is breaking a little. 

Seonghwa gives him a worried look before he is sighing in relief, fingers threading on his hair as he rest his whole body over his right leg. San lets his mask shake for a second, teeth catching his lower lip and biting hard. Seonghwa doesn't need to know. 

It's not like they would date. Right? 

"First, it was you the one putting tabasco on my lunch," Seonghwa scolds, giving a few steps forward. San jumps backwards, pursing his lips in discomfort. "And it's nothing. I saw you two made up and, hmmm," the boy crosses his arms over his chest, looking down. San finally relaxes his arms, letting them fall like dead limbs and hit his hipbones. 

"And?"

"For the way he hisses at me like a cat I'm sure he is still mad at me," Seonghwa sighs, one hand on his eyes now. San guesses their own conversation didn't go well. "You and me, we are starting to finally get along. I didn't want him to tell you something about me that just, you know," the boy doesn't say the word but gestures it with his hand instead. Closing his fist like he is crushing something between his fingers, letting it go after a second. San can't help but bite his tongue to not blurt everything to his face. 

Everything can turn into dust with the wrong choose of words.

"He didn't say a thing about you," San lies in a small voice. "But it hurts me that you still think I'm gonna believe every bad thing they tell me about you."

Seonghwa chuckles.

"As if you wouldn't."

"That's not true!" San frowns, putting both his hands on his waist. "I even let you kiss me, I'm a changed man!" 

Seonghwa arches a brow, tilting his head a little. San notices he is wearing one dangling earring that moves with ever head movement, sparking a little. Beautiful.

"You let me kiss you?" He snorts. "More like you  _ begged  _ for it."

"Of course not," San retorts back, not noticing how they slowly move closer like their bodies are just drawn to each other. "Yesterday you said that it's okay, we can kiss without being in an actual relationship, then proceeded to kiss me  _ everywhere _ ."

"Did you told me to stop?"

"No, but—"

San raises his arm to point at him, just for Seonghwa to wrap his fingers around his wrist and bring him close. Lips softly pressed on the skin there, eyes searching for him, challenging. San clenches his jaws, but not moves his hand back.

"What?" Seonghwa speaks over his skin, tickling him until his legs are nothing more but jelly and his heart is racing inside his chest. "If you want me to stop, you just need to tell me. But it'd be a nice thing to remember when I'm graduated and alone in Jinju."

San fills his lungs with air, feelings inside his chest acting like a snowfall, suddenly trapped inside a blizzard. He doesn't know what to do, nor even how to put his feelings in order. Hating Seonghwa, liking him, being in love with him. Everything is blurry. Inside the blizzard, he can't see well and he feels lost. Alone.

He can't read Seonghwa neither he can ask him if it's true. If they're both in stupid love. If he only wants to kiss to shut up the voice inside his head just like San does when he wraps his arms around his neck and lets the older boy pick him up until his legs are also engulfing his waist.

Once again, not thinking and just doing.

_ A nice thing to remember, huh. _

Seonghwa lets out a guttural sound from his throat, one hand slipping through San's waist as his legs get loaded with the new weight, lips molding to San's mouth. There's a whine escaping San's lips as they move backwards, back pressed to the wardrobe's door, something painfully digging on his lower back — he doesn't care. Shutting down his brain, he lets Seonghwa's tongue travel around his mouth and numb his senses. 

His fingers thread on his hair, bringing him close, lips parting so their tongues meet in a wet dance, moving like they already know each other, slowly twirling around until both their chests are set on fire. 

San throws his head back, exposing his neck for Seonghwa to attack his skin with his teeth. His whole body shivers, legs taking a stronger grip, fingers moving from his hair to his nape, pressing hard. 

"Your freckles are so cute," the older boy whispers right into his skin, sending shivers down his spinal cord. He bites on his skin, softly, making San a whole mess under the pressure of his body. As he draws a line on his neck with the point of his nose, San shuts his eyes open and lets them wander around the room. It's foggy. "I  _ love _ them." 

San gasps between his teeth when he feels Seonghwa's lips under his ear, one hand crawling over his right leg, shamelessly grabbing one of his buttocks as their lips meet again, sloppy. San fidgets the spot, bursting in laugh.

It's the worst way his body has to hide the boner growing on his pants: getting giggly.

"Why are you always laughing?" Seonghwa half scolds him, stopping his work on his neck to press a hand next to his face, observing him up close. 

San bites his lower lip, feeling more comfortable than ever. Not embarrassed, not sad, nothing. Just warm and cozy, amazed his body fits so well in his arms. Not thinking about how will he feel once they detach. 

"These are called giggles," he says, breathless, licking his lips in a totally not hidden hint, making Seonghwa flick one eyebrow. "You are so grumpy to even know what those are, right?" 

"I'm amazed how bold you get every time we kiss," Seonghwa sighs, placing an open mouthed kiss on his neck, right over his Adam's apple, feeling how he gulps. 

"I will kick your ass once you put me down," San threatens.

Seonghwa snorts again, holding him better, chests bumping together. His hand goes all the way up his back, inside his shirt, thumb pressing slowly every disk forming his backbone. 

"I will suck your dick," he says back, San almost choking on his own saliva. "If you let me, of course," Seonghwa mocks.

It makes his whole body burn, the same way he made him rile up months ago. For years, every single middle finger he showed him, every sarcastic comment, every single look. It set his body on fire, and only now he realizes it's not like he wants to punch him. 

It's more like he wants to push him down the mattress and ruin him. 

"I swear to God, Park Seong—"

Someone knocks at the door then, Seonghwa moving so fast he lets San fall. He slips and falls on his ass, Seonghwa still holding him with one hand, nails scratching the skin of his back.

San doesn't have the time to say all the curse words that are crowding on his tongue when Hongjoong pops his head inside the room, wet hair over his forehead. Narrowing his eyes at him, Seonghwa finally lets go of San, jumping to one side. 

"What are you two doing?" He wonders. "Fighting again?" 

"Oh, yeah," Seonghwa throws a nervous laugh, crossing his arms, scratching his neck and biting his thumb in less than five seconds. "I had to punch him."

"I'm going to fucking destroy you," San groans from the floor.

To that, Hongjoong can only sigh and roll his eyes, closing back the door when he leaves, not without adding a: "We are leaving in fifteen minutes, stop acting like morons and move your asses to the lobby now."

Just when they are done, Seonghwa kneels to kiss his cheek in an apologetic way. San kicks him on the stomach.

—

Going back home, San feels like every single worry biting on his ankles before the bonding camp is left lost in the forest. 

Having Wooyoung's arms wrapped around his body, cheek softly pressed to his shoulder as they watch a movie on his phone makes him feel better than never. Their fight is already in the woods.

The pain, is nowhere to be seen.

Everything seems to be back to normal.

Yet, he is coming home with a lot of new problems some bonding won't help. Because he is not mad, he is not fighting, he is just in love. And he can't help but feel his heart both swell and sink with the look of Seonghwa's eyes at the other side of the bus. 

He is also carrying a conflict with him.

Just one month until Seonghwa's graduation. What is the best for them? Keep on kissing like nothing happens and then let him go? Or tell him he knows, he feels stupid butterflies on his stomach every time he smiles. Put an end to their stupid fights forever. 

San rests his cheek over Wooyoung's hair, not being able to decide which is better.

—

For two weeks, San does everything but try to choose what to do. And with everything, of course it's kissing Seonghwa when nobody is looking and sneaking in his apartment when Mingi is out with Hongjoong and throw his dead body over his couch to watch a movie. He goes with the flow, which doesn't seem to be a reasonable thing to do due their condition —  _ beep beep we are fucking in love but we won't say a thing. _

Seonghwa is — unknowingly — nice enough to make him popcorn and a handjob under the blanket that leaves his body feel like jelly for a whole hour. 

Seonghwa is — sadly — not nice enough to ask him to stay the night or hold his hand, neither tell him the confession San has been waiting, sending him home with a little kiss on the hand. San doesn't ask, neither gets mad because, well, how does he expect Seonghwa to confess his feelings when he can't also voice them out. 

Arriving home at night he gets sulky that Wooyoung was right about Seonghwa's magic fingers, working around his dick like it's his job and making him blank out and forget his mission: trying to guess why in the world he told that to Wooyoung but then decided to not tell San. It's because of the graduation? Because he thinks San still hates him? — Which is not real because 1) he never hated him and 2) he has been acting like a cat and asking for head pats for two weeks. 

He is starting to sink with his own thoughts, not being able to focus. 

"Hey, super star," Wooyoung sits next to him on the floor — read: he lets all his body fall over his back, chin digging on his shoulder. San has been pretending to read his lines out loud and it's amazed at how no one mistrusted him when there's only two weeks left for the due date. The way his body trembles, honey peanuts splattering all over the floor around him, makes him feel goosebumps as war flashbacks of almost four months ago pierces his brain. "Whatcha doing?"

"Practicing."

"By yourself?" Wooyoung's hands place on his stomach, giving him a softly pat. "Do you want me to help you?"

San shrugs, it's not like he has been reading anyway — plus, he already knew his lines way before knowing he was Noah. 

"It's okay," he sighs, one hand moving to his face, fingers pinching his nose bridge. "Actually, I think I need a rest," he has been thinking for too long.

"Then, cuddle me!" The boy demands, legs already wrapping around San's waist and pulling him onto his back. San doesn't complain, accepting Wooyoung's love because, he's not gonna lie to himself, he missed him the most. 

Wooyoung hugs him, snuggling close, proceeding to smooch his cheek loud and strong then in the middle of the room where everyone can see they are friends again. It makes him giggle.

For the past weeks, they've been clinging to each other like they need it to live, no one saying a word and actually smiling at them acting like always after so much. Hongjoong now walks around the room with his nose pointing the sky because since they came back from the cottage they've all have been acting like normal. And it's all thanks to him.

San is also thankful he had that idea. 

Even when Wooyoung is heartbroken, still feeling awkward around Seonghwa, he confesses San that it was a crush and he will get over it one day. That he is not mad anymore. And San feels a little happy when the boy smiles at Yunho across the room and the taller takes both his hands to his heart. 

San doesn't ask about what they have, not being actually sure they have a thing. He just knows Yunho confessed. He was brave. Not like him.

"Get a room," Yeosang uses his hands as a megaphone, squatting down next to them.

"You can join, Sangie," Wooyoung reaches over his right hand just for Yeosang to hit him.

"Ugh," he rolls his eyes, placing it on San's face then. "Seonghwa wants to talk with you. He says he won't come near you two gross asses."

Wooyoung can't help but snort, holding San tightly for a second before letting him go and catching Yeosang into his embrace instead. The boy screams.

San stands up, slowly walking where Seonghwa is standing all dressed up in black dress pants and a white shirt, two buttons unbuttoned and a gold necklace falling in between his collarbones. San gulps.

"Why are you so well dressed?" He asks in an attempt to look at him in the eye, but he decided to style it up his hair, letting not only his forehead on sight but also his sharp eyebrows, pointing down at him.

"I had an interview," he replies, dry. "Can you come with me?"

"Rehearsal is about to start," San points down to the stage, but the boy is already ignoring him, fingers wrapped around his wrist, dragging him out of the room. "Okay, whatever you want." 

Seonghwa doesn't open his lips until they reach the bathrooms, letting go of him to cross his arms over his chest and curve the edges of his mouth down. He looks either way pissed and embarrassed, cheeks sparkling in light pink, eyes avoiding San. That makes him pinch his stomach from inside. 

"What now?" He blurts.

"Nothing," Seonghwa says back, totally not matching his voice tone. San clicks his tongue, hitting their knees together, receiving a glance back. "Don't be childish."

San narrows his eyes, moving a little to look at him closer. He looks around to see no one is looking to plant an open mouthed kiss on his lips, catching his lower lip into his teeth and biting hard until the older boy is pulling him away with a pissed grin.

"What did I just say!?" He gasps.

"You look like someone stuck a finger up your ass. Did your interview go bad?"

"It went amazingly," he starts walking in circles, one hand scratching the back of his head. "But, well, you and Wooyoung—"

San doesn't let him finish, snorting so loud Seonghwa is arching his brows at him, visibly attacked. 

"Are you really jealous?" He rolls his eyes so hard he feels it on his brain. "Of Wooyoung? Or of me?" 

"Of course it's Wooyoung," Seonghwa points at him, putting his finger down once he realizes what he is saying, cheeks going red. "I sucked your dick yesterday why would I be jealous of you?"

San blinks. "You sucked Wooyoung's dick too."

"I didn't come here to talk about this," he sighs, putting his hands in the air. "So…"

"So?"

"Okay, I never thought I'd ask you this."

San allows himself to mock him. "Are you proposing to me?"

"I did think of that," Seonghwa says in a blurr, making San part his lips in disbelief, heart painfully sinking. "The thing is, you left your jacket on my car — idiot — and when I took Youngie to school this morning she said it was yours because you wear it a lot — you should do your laundry — when you go visiting them. Then she asked if we were friends and I told her yes, so short story she wants you to come for dinner tonight."

San quickly forgets about the  _ wait a fucking moment did he really thought of asking me to marry him  _ and goes through mild panic, a fire alarm starting to buzz at the back of his head.

"What?"

"Please," Seonghwa begs, reaching out to hold his hands. San's head goes dizzy again. "It's just a dinner, we are friends, Youngie loves you—"

San shakes his head. Seonghwa's sister is five years old, which means she still lives with their parents, which also means—

"I  _ can't  _ meet your parents, idiot."

"You don't even have to talk to them, ignore my dad, it's okay, he's used to that I have two older brothers he lived puberty thrice."

"Are you even hearing yourself?" San moves his hands back, tightly pressed into his chest. 

"Do it for my sister. Please please please please please please please—"

"Shut up!" 

San's cheeks go red, legs shaking when he decides to start walking in circles, both hands on his head. He can't meet Seonghwa's parents. No. That's going way too fast for the weird relationship they've developed in the last weeks. Plus, he doesn't want to meet  _ the parents.  _

"I will do anything," Seonghwa says then, holding him tight by the shoulders. "I'm asking you this as a friend. Do you want me to clean your house? I'd do it for free. Want to punch Yeosang? I'd do it for you, tell me hour and place."

"Why the sudden attack to my persona," Yeosang walks in silence to where they are standing. "What— What happened? Why is Seonghwa on the verge of a panic attack? Is he going through the halfway to fifty crisis?"

Seonghwa snaps his head back to San. "You can use it  _ now. _ "

San shakes his head.

"Anyway, Hongjoong is asking, and I will paraphrase him,  _ where the fucking shit are the fucking main characters _ ."

"You just wanted to cuss, right?" San sighs, passing by next to him. 

Yeosang giggles, following close.

Still, as they go through the play, San isn't able to tell his lines properly and Seonghwa falls on his face. Hongjoong is the one at the verge of a crisis now.

—

**Seonghwa, 8:34 P.M**

_ I'm here  _

_ don't make me go there, wooyoung will punch me _

San looks at the notification sparking on his phone, closing his eyes immediately after. Splattered on the couch, dressed in black jeans and the best shirt he could find — a purple one, because he remembers Hwayoung telling him she liked that one — he waits for Seonghwa to pick him up. 

He accepted. 

And he doesn't even know how he ended up cornered between his locker and Seonghwa's chest after rehearsal, but accepting was a way of getting away from the drumming inside his chest threatening with a sudden heart attack.

Even though he felt relieved for a second, right now he feels a rock on his stomach. Meeting Seonghwa's parents is not really what he wants right now, not when he doesn't even know how to label their relationship. 

Not friends with benefits neither boyfriends. Maybe friends, but still going through the awkward phase were you have to ask for a glass of water instead of picking it up yourself. 

**Seonghwa, 8:40 P.M**

_ cmon _

_ dont make me go :( _

**San, 8:40 P.M**

_ omw _

_ >:| _

San doesn't lie to Wooyoung, observing how the boy wrinkles his nose as he eats his cereal on the kitchen. San rests his body over the door frame, nodding a little when his friend tells him he will just call Yunho over and play Mario Kart.

"Use protection," Wooyoung points at him with the spoon.

San rolls his eyes. "We're not gonna do  _ shit. _ "

_ We're not even together,  _ he wants to say, yet the words get stuck on his chest like slime. 

"He's introducing you to his parents," Wooyoung half laughs half shrugs, eyes turning a little gray. "He didn't do that with me in the three months we fucked around."

"Don't worry, this won't last," San mumbles, giving his friend a short wave before replying to the tons of messages Seonghwa sent in the span of one minute.

**San, 8:42 P.M**

_ one more word and youll be alone on this fucker _

He exits the apartment, walking so slow he finds Seonghwa exiting his car to just  _ go there _ and bring him down. Neither to say, Seonghwa looks stressed, dressed in a black turtleneck that he keeps on pulling and white tight pants. He is sweating. 

"What were you doing?" He demands.

San sighs, circling the car to get in. 

"I'm sorry, I just didn't want to come."

Seonghwa's only reply is a snort. 

The car ride to the Park residence goes by in utterly silence because they don't share the same musical taste — or just Seonghwa is so nervous he gets irritated real easy. San has his eyes fixed on the road, moving from time to time to the way Seonghwa taps his fingers over the steering wheel and clicks his tongue every five seconds.

It's not the right moment to talk about the whole thing — being in love or whatever — so San just spends the whole ride straightening the wrinkles of his jeans.

"Oh, fuck, my hands are so sweaty," standing in front of the door, Seonghwa looks like he is about to die.

San twirls on his heels, staring at him.  _ Is because you are in love with me? _ He thinks. 

"Gross," he says instead.

"Thanks, idiot, totally what I needed," Seonghwa inflates his chest with a new mouthful of air right before the door is opening and Hwayoung is running towards them — towards San, which she doesn't doubt on hugging. 

—

Dinner is not as bad as he thought. 

Not a whole  _ honey, these are my parents _ neither the  _ please dad, put that gun down! _ Scenario that has been floating around his mind all night. Because 1) San is not Seonghwa's honey and neither he is here to meet them but to play with little Hwayoung and 2) because Seonghwa's dad is some business man with no guns and with a really soft voice, embracing San real quickly and making him feel so warm and relaxed in just minutes.

That makes Seonghwa relax as well, which is a nice thing because he's been sweating for a while and it's starting to freak San out. 

They talk about San's work at the daycare at first and how Hwayoung has never stopped talking about him — which makes San's heart a little warm. About how they are the main characters of the play, asking since when have they been such close friends — both of them choke on either wine or rice, totally avoiding everything they've gone through and the fact that maybe they are not really that good friends but they sucked each other's dicks. And about what is San doing once he graduates — he wants to work at the daycare forever, but he still has one more year until he can graduate. 

After dinner, San spends some quality time with Hwayoung and, of course, the lovely Sunshine, getting so immersed on his teacher self he forgets Seonghwa is sitting in one of the couches, wine glass in one hand, looking at him. 

When the little girl finally goes to sleep, is already late at night. Seonghwa's parents send them off with a pat on the shoulder — San — and a loud kiss on the cheek — Seonghwa. 

The car ride back home is equally silent, but not as tense as before. Seonghwa plays some classical music and slowly places a hand over San's thigh, like it's totally normal for them. San doesn't complain. 

Parking in front of San's apartment complex, Seonghwa finally turns his head towards him at the same time he turns the engine off. San closes his eyes, enjoying the silence before his velvety voice is falling over his skin like a curtain after a play.

"Thank you for today."

San just hums, skin itching a little.

"For real," Seonghwa unbuckles his belt, fingers moving alongside San's forearm, sending electric waves down his spinal cord. "I know we had our ups and downs, but still, tonight you've showed me a side of you I didn't know."

"Is that so?" He wonders.

Seonghwa laughs quietly. "You really know how to play with kids, and puppies," he adds. "I've never seen Young behave so good, you really are amazing."

"Thank you," San whispers. "I guess I'm gifted in the art of making the  _ Parks  _ surrender to me." 

He peeks through one eye, tilting his head enough to meet Seonghwa's lips in a tender way, trying to assert what he just said. Still, it's soft. Just breathing over his lips for a few seconds, being it one of the most intimate moments they've shared so far. Maybe because they're tired, maybe because he really enjoyed the night to the point of starting thinking again.

Seonghwa giggles in silence, one hand over his cheek, thumb circling his skin as he kiss his cheek, his nose, his eyelids and his jaw. Not like the kisses he gives him while they're on the couch and the movie playing on the background gets as nothing more but noise muffled over his own moans. They didn't go more than a few blowjobs and a lot of handjobs, mostly because San isn't ready to get fully undressed in front of him, and it's not like Seonghwa wants it. 

No, is different. 

For the first time, San really feels like he is apologising or just thanking him in a sincere way.

It makes his heart ache. 

He can't contain it anymore. 

"You said you'd do anything for me," He mumbles, so low he wouldn't have been heard if Seonghwa weren't so close.

The older nods, fingers threading on his hair, softly caressing him.

San looks at him in the eye, remaining silent for a second, fingers tightly pressed to his heart. Is beating painfully crazy. His mouth feels dry, throat sore.

"Tell me something," he starts, air flowing through his nose, burning him. "You're in love with me, right?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone on the comments: THE CLIFFHANGER 
> 
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	10. ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at first I was embarrased, proofreading this had me crying a little.  
just one more chapter you go! I hope you enjoy this <3
> 
> WARNING  
this chapter has the awaited smut but, BUT I suck at that. I really suck. I tried really hard but oh god this might be super cringy so I'm sorry beforehand.  
Also, ignore any plot holes, I will fix that soon when I reread the whole fic when it's finished!

For what it seems an eternity, they do nothing more but stare at each other in silence. Not awkward at all, but hard enough to make San a little nervous on his seat, starting to wonder if it was a good idea to drop the bomb out of nowhere like that. If he listens close, the silence can be broken by the loudness of his own heartbeats, drumming behind his ears, feeling the fear biting the skin of his hands. In front of him, Seonghwa is so calm. It’s weird.

His eyes close a little, smile vanishing on his lips when he moves back to press his back into the seat again. Covering half his face with one hand. San gulps, thoughts twisting around like a tornado. Maybe he fucked up. Maybe he shouldn’t have said a thing, keep on going like it’s normal for them to walk around like nothing happens, wait for Seonghwa to graduate and never see him again. Yeah, maybe that’s what he should have done. But since when does San follow what he should follow? This time is not different.

And he doesn’t know how much more will he last without exploding in front of him, ruining what it took them so much to reach. 

“It took you a lot,” is what Seonghwa says after a while, confusing him, breaking the bubble of thoughts and dragging him back to Earth. To that car, to that night. 

San frowns a little, shaky fingers moving to unbuckle his belt because it’s starting to cut his breathing — and maybe he is just a coward, wanting to be ready to run away if things turn to wrong way. His body moves, facing Seonghwa, who suddenly is looking at him with a sad color painting his expression. “What do you mean?” San wonders. It’s not like he is mad, no. That’s not the word. He always thought it was madness what rushed on his veins every time he tried to have the tiniest conversation with Seonghwa, but that’s just bullshit. Of course he is annoyed, he always was. Seonghwa annoys him because he was never clear, he was always hiding behind an eye roll and perfect done eyebrows. He is annoyed because Seonghwa is playing around.

Always playing.

And scared, he isn't smart enough to get of what exactly, but that's the only reason he prefers to hide behind a shield. 

With a chuckle, the older presses both hands on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he tightens the grip. The kiss he gave him looks thousand of years away, and it happened just five minutes ago. San starts feeling a little suffocated inside the car.

“I told you,” Seonghwa mumbles, avoiding looking at him, “at Yunho’s birthday party. But I know you don’t remember, Wooyoung told me.”

San parts his lips, ready to blurt something reasonable at that — not that he has something on his mind aside for the way Seonghwa is biting hard his lower lip right now —, when the boy gazes at him. Smile sparkling on his lips. But it’s not a sincere one. Not even a small bit. 

For the first time in years, Seonghwa does something San wasn’t expecting.

“I’m sorry.”

He apologises, and his brain flies away, numb. It leaves his body a little sore, almost like he has been tied for a long time, limbs finally receiving the flow of blood again. It’s warm at first, exploding, turning into a lukewarm feeling kissing his fingertips then. It makes him shiver.

“I should have told you before,” Seonghwa whispers. “I’m in love with you.”

When he smiles at him, it doesn't reach his eyes. Yet, San is not able to react. He remains sitting there, with both hands over his thighs, counting the heartbeats pumping more and more blood into his organism, reactivating what it feels like a dead machine. One, two, three, twelve, twenty-eight, thirty-four, one hundred forty-seven.

He wasn't expecting none of that. Seonghwa apologising, Seonghwa kindly admitting that, yeah, he is in love with him.

“I know what you’re thinking. I never really tried to make you fall in love with me, San, I’m not stupid. That’s the reason I lied to you in the first place. Why making things more difficult for you? I know you’re still in love with Yunho, and I know that even if that wasn’t the case, you and I… We’re not really meant for each other. Sometimes,” he sighs, boths hands falling off the steering wheel to meet on his stomach, “sometimes I think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t spilled your coffee all over my new dress shirt years ago."

Seonghwa laughs, dry, sending images to San’s brain. He remembers.

Three years ago, on his very first day as a member of the drama club. He crashed into someone, and that someone screamed how much of an useful ass he was. Seonghwa. Of course. It makes him smile a little.

“Maybe our relationship would be totally different now if you hadn’t that ability of driving me nuts,” he says, finally looking at him. “But I don’t regret it. Even when you’re annoying as fuck, I still love you. And believe me, I tried to forget about you, but that would made me think about you even more. I guess you’re right, you know how to make us surrender to you.”

San takes a deep breath, closing his eyes before moving on the seat. He had enough, but at the same time, he is calm. He is not mad, he is not annoyed, he is not even thinking when he digs his knee on Seonghwa’s crotch first, pressing their lips and eating his whine after. 

He kicks all his words but five out of his brain. _ I'm in love with you. _

“That hurts,” Seonghwa cries out loud, hitting his knee with the steering wheel and then his forehead with San’s own, both of them having a hard time in that small space. His hands move fast, fingers digging on each side of his waist, trying to move him. San falls like a dead body, pulling all his strength into his legs, arms wrapped around his neck. Seonghwa groans. “San, don’t be fucking childish. What does this even mean? You’re doing nothing but confuse me. Why aren’t you mad?”

San clicks his tongue. “It’s the first time in the past three years I don’t get mad at you, and you have the audacity to get picky?”

“You’re not being you.”

“Do you want me to punch you?”

“Well, you just fucking kicked me on the balls, asshole.”

San loosens up his hold, back pressed to the steering wheel, staring at him. Seonghwa is looking at him with a mix of confusion and sadness, eyes a little glassy — 80% sure it’s because of the ball accident, though.

“It’s been almost a month since Yunho’s birthday,” San starts, slowly playing with his fingers. “I thought you liked me, and you told me you didn’t. I asked you, twice. I’m not mad, I’m just sad you don’t want to tell me. Why?”

“Telling you wouldn’t have changed a thing," Seonghwa shrugs, looking away. "I liked that we were starting to get close, and, well, maybe I sound like a dick but I really like when you kiss me. I wanted to enjoy it for a little before, you know, _ graduating. _”

“How are you so sure about it?”

Seonghwa cocks his head, raising a brow. “Are you trying to imply what I think you’re trying to imply?”

San parts his lips, letting out a sigh, air burning on his throat. He starts feeling like a kid on his first day of school, or his own persona when he walked out of the closet and told his parents he wasn’t into girls as much as he was into boys. And like the horrible joke he told that time to break ice, he is about to say something stupid he will regret later when he crashes in bed and wonders how in the world is he gonna be able to walk around the house without feeling like dying ever again.

“I’m not in love with you,” he blurts, quickly adding, “but I do like you. A lot. I mean, a fucking lot. And—And I don’t know why, or how because you are one of the more annoying persons I have ever met but, but I also admire you. I know you think I was trying to steal the star role from you, that’s wrong. At first, it pissed me off how everyone would kiss the floor you stepped, but when I started looking at you, I understood it (not like I was gonna admit it to Wooyoung). You’re like a role model. And, of course, it made my blood boil that you’re so fucking annoying, but I guess that wasn’t the only reason you’re always on my fucking mind.”

Seonghwa smiles a little brighter than before, one hand moving to cup one of San’s cheeks, thumb drawing a little pattern there. Trying to not look desperate for an answer, San remains quiet, fighting back the urge of melting into his touch and finally, _ finally _doing what he had been craving for weeks now and asking him to hug to sleep. Yeah. Basic needs. Something he can’t ask an almost friend, but that’s totally cool to ask the dude that’s in love with you — if you feel the same, of course, and San, even when always takes him centuries to realise what’s burning around him, does feel the same. 

“That screams in love to me,” the older boy jokes before moving on the spot, bodies flowing together like the water of a river, arms wrapping around San’s waist, pulling him close to be able to kiss him like he hadn’t kiss him before. Desperate is not the right way of defining it, but San’s brain is foggy and quivering so he doesn’t care much about all the yearning he can feel on Seonghwa’s lips moving over his own, like they were meant for each other.

It’s also enough to distract San, not caring about Seonghwa’s last words. Hmm, whatever. He’d deal with that later, the only thing he can do now is kiss him. Forever. Chest burning in desire, and also a little of relief. Fuck, shit. It felt like a fucking long enemies to lovers movie. He’s done with that.

“Wait a moment,” Seonghwa breaks the kiss, giggling a little as San whines, fingers already wrapping around his wrists, pulling him off from getting inside his shirt. “We’re not going to _ fuck _ on my car.”

San groans, hitting his hand off to hide his face on the crook of his neck, using his lips to move around the soft skin, getting intoxicated with the scent. He feels it on his lips, the way Seonghwa’s body shivers behind his own body, hands doubting on whether stop him or just fucking off.

“No, San, for real,” he says with a trembling voice, hands moving to his shoulders. “No sex in the car, this is not a fucking porn movie.”

“Boring.”

“Both my mother and my little sister will be sitting here tomorrow morning, do you really think I’m gonna feel good knowing I had you naked here?”

San sighs, covering his face with both hands. “Okay, you got me there.”

But he is hard as fuck, and maybe he is starting to realize Seonghwa is responsible of that just now. Took him long enough. Looking out of the window, he realizes something. 

“Sleep here,” he blurts, Seonghwa biting his lower lip. “I’m not just asking for sex, c'mon, I think we need to talk. And if you don’t want to fuck in the car, I don’t want to talk here neither. My back hurts.”

“What about Wooyoung?”

“He’s out with Yunho,” San says, and just after that, he bites the inside of his cheek. Wooyoung’s words float around his brain, hitting him like a mace. Maybe he did end up needing some protection in the end.

—

Still, San texts Wooyoung to confirm he’s not home, receiving a reply just five minutes after, saying that he’ll stay the night on Yunho’s — and that, adding an eye roll emoji, have fun. San feels how his cheeks go red just at the thought, even when he is the first one wanting to do it. Please, he’s the one that asked it. Seonghwa was ready to drop him and go back home, but would San allowed him that? No. Because he really wants Seonghwa on his bed, regardless of what they end up doing — if they cuddle, that’s a win, though. 

“Wooyoung’s sleeping with Yunho,” he says louder than he actually needs as Seonghwa is sitting on his bed, looking at all the pictures he has on his wall. Mostly of his family and friends. The boy bites his lip, not knowing what to do. Maybe this is too cold. 

“Hmm. Nice,” Seonghwa tapes a finger on his own leg. “This is the first time I’m on your room. Is tidy.”

“Thanks.”

“I thought you were the type who lived in chaos,” Seonghwa chuckles. “You know, without knowing where the bed is because there’s way too much dirty clothes around.”

“How sweet of you,” San scoffs.

“I’m joking,” Seonghwa sings, smile not leaving his lips since they walked out of the car hand in hand. “I like the pics, you look happy.”

When they lock gazes, Seonghwa just raises and arm and silently asks him to move towards him. It takes San a lot to actually move from the spot he has been awkwardly standing for minutes now, almost forgetting they shouldn’t be embarrassed of these type of things. They’ve done _ things _, San is now 100% sure Seonghwa adores every part of his being, that he can rest on his arms for a while and sleep without worrying he’s going to let him down.

For that, he presses his forehead on top of Seonghwa’s head, allowing the older to place his hands on his hips, bring him close and rest his head on his chest, where he’s sure he can hear the concert his heart is having by his own. How different life feels when feelings are out of one’s chest. 

Even if they're just taking baby steps — San is. 

Seonghwa’s fingers move slowly, crawling inside his shirt and caresing the skin of his back as if they had all the time in the world. San doesn’t complain, body slowly getting weaker, knees meeting the mattress earlier than he thought. Seonghwa holds him close, chests bumping together before his back is being engulfed by the cover of his own bed, legs parted as Seonghwa makes himself room to kiss his neck, holding one of his hands on top of his head, using the free one to unbutton his shirt with delicacy, fingers taking its time to enjoy the ride. 

“Can… Can we turn off the lights first?” San moves his leg to create a little space between their bodies, hand quickly flying to where the shirt starts falling to reveal the fair skin of his abdomen. Seonghwa furrows at him. “Please?”

“Why?”

That’s not something San really wants to talk about right now, because he is sure if he does, his erection will go down and he will crawl into the farthest corner of the room and isolate himself for a week more or less. And he doesn’t want that, he wants to have a good time and maybe finally get full Seonghwa for himself. 

Looking out, his fingers hold tight onto the fabric of his shirt, not caring about all the wrinkles it will leave behind.

“I’m not… My body is not.... Can’t you just close your eyes I’m getting embarrassed,” he tries to cover Seonghwa’s face with his hands, the older boy moving his face with an already pissed expression dancing all over it.

“San,” he groans, holding his face with one hand, forcing him to stare at him, “are you forgetting I’ve already sucked you off or what?”

San frowns. “That’s different. I was fully dressed that time. I don’t like my body… Naked.”

“Well, I do like it,” Seonghwa retorts back. “Remember that time you were showering? I already saw you, idiot, and believe me I’m still thinking of it from time to time. Call me a creep if you want.”

“Pervert.”

“Whatever. I love you, San,” he repeats for the ninth time in the night, dead serious. “I’m not joking. We can spend the night watching a movie or just laying in bed. I don’t care. Whatever we do tonight won’t change what I feel, because I’ve been in love with you for years. And you’re a big idiot, because you’re beautiful. Perfect. Try to change my mind.”

He whispers his lasts words over San’s lips, brushing them together in a soft kiss that makes San’s arms fall like dead limbs into the mattress. Maybe he's not the only one gifted in the art of making boys surrender.

“You’re just saying this because you want to bone me,” he snorts.

“First, you’re the one that kindly invited me over to fuck you. Second, I already wanted to do it when I called you a dumbass good for nothing. Try again.”

“Bad guy,” San groans, catching his lips between his mouth again, letting their tongues meet for the first time in the night, tasting the soft scent of wine that’s still glued to Seonghwa’s tongue, twirling together as if had been years since the last time they met. San lets out a guttural sound from his throat when he feels Seonghwa’s teeth biting down his lip, smile curving before he is moving down, leaving a trail of kisses all over his skin.

He doesn't remember shit from Yunho's party, but for the way his body reacts to the way Seonghwa is kissing him, he gets they didn't just share soft kisses that night.

Going over his jaw, neck — getting a lot of time blooming dark marks over the patch of freckles that lay there, and the ones Seonghwa seem to like the most —, collarbones and finally reaching his chest. Shirt sliding over the soft skin of his shoulders, leaving him shy and exposed. San gulps as Seonghwa gives him a last look, eyes shining dark behind his long eyelashes, looking both breathtakingly beautiful and dangerous, just as if he was about to destroy him — San would be lying if he hadn't been waiting for him to wreck him for weeks now —, before going down and down and down. Kissing his abdomen first, hot tongue trailing a way to his navel, fingers finding the zip of his pants, pulling them down in less than two seconds, getting stuck on his thighs, but it’s okay.

“I don’t know if I should blow you,” Seonghwa mumbles, almost like he is talking to himself, eyes fixed on the line his cock is drawing behind the tight fabric of his boxers, fingers dangerously playing with the gem but not pulling them down, driving San a little crazy and desperate. “I want to, because I love having your dick on my mouth and now that I know you also _ like me _ , I just want to show you how good I can make you feel. But I also know you come super fast and that would piss me off, because I _ really _ want to show you in every aspect."

“Shut the fuck up,” San scoffs, throwing his head back and almost hitting the wall. “If you don’t want me to come, shut up.”

“Okay,” Seonghwa hums, voice filled with a spark of mockery before he is pulling from his boxers and releasing his aching cock, not doubting in wrapping it with his warm lips first. And it’s okay, it’s totally okay, they’ve done that before. San’s used to the way his tongue swirls around the tip, expert fingers working slow and hard at the base that doesn’t fit, applying pressure and draining some moans from his throat. He’s _ fucking okay _.

“Fuck— wait a mom— _ Hwa _,” he closes his eyes so hard he sees fireworks exploding at the back of his eyelids, but maybe it also has something to do with the way his body is reacting. Differently, chest almost on fire, heart beating so fast he is having difficulties to breath correctly. Nothing more but gaps passing through his clenched jaws, fingers following the same path and clenching around the the cover in need for something to distract him. 

Seonghwa moves up, one hand still wrapped around him, to brush his lips against his ear this time. He looks calm, yet San can feel how his body shakes on top of him. “What did you just call me?” His voice is hoarse, sending shivers alongside San’s body, dick twitching and making his legs curl, hips moving alone seeking for some contact.

“Don’t be fucking annoying and _ touch _me,” he grits his teeth, feeling like he never had felt before. So good yet so desperate, he could punch a wall or just push Seonghwa away and end the fucking play himself.

“Ask it nicely.”

There it is again, stupid Seonghwa getting on his fucking nerves even when he has a hand around his dick and his fingers are getting sticky with precum — which, if he stops to think about it a little, it’s kind of beautiful. Trusting each other to be more than strangers sharing a bed. But San’s way too focused on the way he feels like he’s about to explode and die out of need to even think about that.

He clicks his tongue, crying out a little, maybe out of embarrassment or maybe not. “Please,” he grunts, closing his eyes again, “please _ Hwa _ , touch me, or whatever but please, I _ need _it.”

The hand around his dick starts moving again, a loud moan escaping from his throat at the same time Seonghwa’s teeth sink into his shoulder. “Oh, shit— I’m gonna come, no joke.”

He shouldn't have said that out loud, yet his brain is not working properly right now and he never felt so sensitive. He feels it close on his stomach, feeling also fucking embarrassed Seonghwa is able to know his body to the point of driving him crazy just with his fingers — also super mad at his own body for betraying him that way. All the things San had done for him and that’s the way he gets paid, coming in less than five fucking minutes.

At least, Seonghwa listens to him and stops — which yeah, it’ll bring him happiness in the near future but right now, it leaves him mopping because of the lack of contact. He jerks his hips, feeling his body sink deeper on the mattress as Seonghwa moves his hand to grab one of his legs, planting a loud kiss in the inner side of his thigh, biting not long after. San tries to stand a little, sitting and whining at the mess he's making on his new blankets. “You’re not helping at all.”

“I love your legs,” Seonghwa says instead, lips pressing down his skin once again, another red mark blooming into his pale skin. “What do you wanna do now?” He purrs his way up to his face, planting an open mouthed kiss on his lips, one hand holding him close. For the way his body tenses and shivers, San knows that he has only two options: running away and jerking off with his own shaky hand until every drop of fire is flowing out of his body or let Seonghwa’s tongue run inside his mouth one more time and end up in the same place.

“Dying, I think,” he says in a whisper.

“Wrong answer,” San has his eyes closed in a _ think about gross things, whatever that makes you last for at least ten fucking minutes _ but he can feel how Seonghwa rolls his eyes and moves back. Hands finally leaving his body. When San opens his eyes, placing them in his sweaty hair and flushed cheeks, he can’t avoid the thought that invades his brain like an invasive plant, rooting there and threatening him with staying. Seonghwa getting rid of his turtleneck, finally revealing his toned chest, and dropping it with a smooth movement on the floor of his room, smirk taking all over his face as he unzips his own pants. “What?”

“Nothing,” San goes back to closing his eyes, that image not leaving his brain now.

Seonghwa’s fucking hot.

He distract himself finally kicking his pants off — that ended up curling around his ankles —, throwing them somewhere he doesn't see as he refuses to open his eyes. 

“Where do you have the lube?”

“Drawner,” San points at it, hearing how Seonghwa opens it and jumps back into the bed to observe it, intentionally throwing his body all over San’s, rubbing his clothed erection with his own abused cock. “_ Fucker.” _

Seonghwa ignores him, laughing a little. “Do you really have mint scented lube?”

San frowns. “Well, it’s for my own use, so what?”

“Nothing. This is fresh. Kinda hot,” the scent of mint already starts filling the room, reaching San’s nostrils and sending electric shocks down his spine. “When was the last time you did it?”

San gulps, frowning and trying to remember it exactly. After a party, one year ago, with a dude that was half as drunk as him and that came in less than two minutes. Also, it was San the one giving it to him that time, and right now, he’s totally waiting for Seonghwa to wreck him and not all the other way around. 

“A lot,” he ends up saying, inflating his chest, hot air burning his lungs. “But I have fingers, I’m not gonna break. Just, don’t do nothing weird.”

“Define weird.”

San shrugs. “I know Wooyoung’s onto some kinky shit. I'm more into traditional things.”

Seonghwa remains silent for a moment, San’s too scared to open his eyes to see what’s he actually doing, so he just hopes that didn’t make him mad.

“Just tell me what you like, San,” he sighs, one hand finally pressing into his abdomen, thumb rubbing his skin before he is kissing all over the place again. “Communication is key. We can stop right now if that’s what you want,” he places another kiss over one of his collarbones, going for his Adam’s apple then, so he totally feels when San gulps. Of course he doesn’t have intentions of stopping, not when he notices Seonghwa got rid of his underwear — a shame he had his eyes closed because he’s sure that was hot as fuck too — as he lays on top of him. "I can just blow you until you're coming, then we shower together. I don't care."

Looking back at the last month, it kind of feels like a dream. He’s about to wake up and realize things are still the same as before the roles of the play were sorted. And he gets a little sad as he can say that, right now, he feels happy. It doesn’t matter what he went through, this is the place he wants to stay right now. No. The place he belongs. Fitting like pieces of a puzzle. San always knew he didn’t have a chance with Yunho, for that he decided to not try at all. He felt sad, of course, but the one he went to when he finally confessed, was Seonghwa.

It was Seonghwa after all.

Nobody’s perfect.

San feels his mouth a little dry when he speaks again, cheeks hot and red. “I’d like to ride you,” he babbles, finally opening his eyes and finding the shiny stars welcoming him from his ceiling. “If you feel cool with that, of course.”

Seonghwa almost chokes on air. “Fuck. Hmm, yeah, cool. _ Fuck. _”

It takes him a second to stand up, walking toward where he throw his pants — San enjoying the way he moves, admiring how the muscles of his back clench as he bends, finding every single part of him beautiful — and coming back with a condom. San keeps the air inside his lungs for a hurtful minute. It’s happening.

And maybe Seonghwa catches his nervousness, holding his face with both hands and leaving a trail of soft kisses before he is — also softly — pushing him down until his back touches the mattress again. He uses his mouth, kissing and biting, caressing his hair with his free hand to distract him for the uncomfy feeling of one of his fingers pressing down his entrance after applying a good amount of lube over his hand. Hurting a little, cold, moving so slow it makes San frown, air getting stuck inside his lungs. But he can endure it, throwing his head back, opening his mouth so the air moves.

Seonghwa kisses his neck, not searching for a blank spot to mark — there’s none — but just trying to make him feel better as he tries another finger, moving them slowly, with care. “You’re okay?”

“Hmm,” San nods, even when his whole body feels one second away from breaking apart. “I’m— _ Ngh _— I’m okay. You can add one more.”

“Yes, sir,” Seonghwa kisses the tip of his nose, and for some reason, that makes San giggle without a reason, tears starting to crowd behind his eyes. It also makes Seonghwa giggle along, pinching his cheek with his clean hand. “What’s with you and giggles? Am I really that funny?”

San shakes his head. “I’m happy,” he blurts, bubbles exploding inside his chest as he speaks, one single tear falling over his right cheek. “I didn’t know I could feel this happy. I’m just overwhelmed. I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa looks down, smile already drawing on his face. “I’m happy too. You don’t know how much.”

One part of his body wants to believe they’re feeling the same, and that’s enough.

His body starts to relax when the fourth finger is added, finally feeling comfortable enough to move his hips up to match the pace of Seonghwa’s hand, body starting to warm up again. The sight of Seonghwa ripping the condom with his teeth sends shivers down his spine, not actually thinking he could become that hot with blonde hair falling over his forehead — and the small groan that escapes Seonghwa’s throat when he slides it in, throbbing cock lacking for contact, makes San want to jump on top of him and make him moan his name for the rest of the night. Or the month. 

Yet, he waits. Because he knows Seonghwa doesn’t want to hurt him, placing between his legs first and letting him adjust to his size. San arches his back, eyes tightly closed as he feels like vanishing in the air as nothing more but sparkly dust, air stuck again, this time spinning around with the strength of a twist, making him gasp repeatedly, fingers finding its way to Seonghwa's hair and tugging.

“Shit— Don’t mov— _ Fuck _.”

“Holy shit,” Seonghwa’s not doing any better, trying to keep his breathing low, but gasping for air every three seconds. “How can you be so fucking _ tight _. This is crazy.”

“Let’s change,” San pleads quickly, hitting Seonghwa on the shoulder, “I don’t think I can come twice tonight and I'm not gonna waste it now. I overestimated my body.”

Seonghwa’s reply is a nod, pulling out but quickly wrapping an arm around San’s tiny waist, moving him aside. He ends up sinking his knees on the mattress, heart drumming behind his ears and inside the mess his chest is right now, not taking more than two seconds to sink on Seonghwa’s cock as well, throwing his head back, not containing the moans for himself anymore. He feels it so deep inside his own body he also feels he’s close to falling apart. Yet, Seonghwa’s arms will be there to pull him together, he believes.

Rocking his hips up and down, he feels not even a smidgen of embarrassment now, finding the obscene sound of their skin hitting together really beautiful along Seonghwa’s chanting of his own name in between moans. That’s the only thing San can hear, heart taking a rest of his fast race to swell a little, thinking that he was able of doing _ that _. Having Seonghwa totally broken behind his body, nails digging on his skin, desperate for more, repeating his name like that would make it feel better. And it never sounded more beautiful than now.

Reaching his climax, San can’t help but collapse on top of him, sweaty forehead pressed down Seonghwa’s equally gross shoulder, eyes closed, body feeling like jelly. He made a mess all over Seonghwa’s chest, but he guesses that’s okay as next thing he is hearing is:

“I love you,” in a shaky voice, between gasps. “I fucking love you so much.”

San does his best and hugs him, lips softly tasting the sweat out of his skin.

—

After what he feels an entire week, San finally opens his eyes to find his ceiling again. Starfished on his own bed, smelling like Wooyoung’s strawberry shampoo and feeling every single cell of his body scream in pain, he feels at peace. Smiling like a fool. And maybe a little bit alone.

Limbs screaming, he does the most to not whine as he rolls in bed, one arm reaching for the phone that’s waiting for him on the bedside table. The room is as tidy as it was before Seonghwa started dropping his clothes around, and for the way the mattress is cold, it seems like he had gone hours ago — maybe because San has been sleeping for years as he looks at the hour on his phone: one in the fucking afternoon.

His stomach groans.

Before answering the tons of messages that start popping like a waterfall, he catches one of the yellow notes he uses to study glued to the table. The handwritten there is annoyingly beautiful.

_ I had to take mom and Young into graduation shopping. Can you believe my little sister is graduating? My heart is crying. I’ll come back around 2 p.m (if you want me to (or if you ever open your eyes, groundhog)) with food, I don’t think you’ll be moving from bed and you need food to get strong. You might be wondering why I wasted one of your post-its on this. Fuck you, we’re theatre kids, we gotta be romantic. What would Shakespeare think of us? (He would probably kill us now, but not so different to having Hongjoong, right?) _

_ With love, “HWA”. _

That fucker really made a simple morning message into an essay — yet San can’t complain, rereading it four times in a row like he’s fifteen and receiving a valentine’s letter for the first time. Looking at the time, he should be around in less than an hour, so he is nice enough to text him that he is awake.

**San, 1:29 P.M.**

_ hewo _

_ im awake _

_ and hungry _

_ feed me ;) _

Embarrassment holds him captive for two minutes after sending that text, Seonghwa automatically starting writing back as if he was waiting for it, not giving him the chance to retract.

**Seonghwa, 1:29 P.M.**

_ I’m impressed you still have energy _

**San, 1:32 P.M.**

_ it was a typo _

_ it was meant to be _

_ “feed me 🍗” _

**Seonghwa, 1:32 P.M.**

_ I’m not gonna ask how in the world the drumstick emoji ended up being a wink _

_ Shopping ended up early, actually waiting on the parking lot _

_ Are you gonna invite me over or? _

**San, 1:33 P.M.**

_ hmm _

_ maybe you can wait for another hour _

**Seonghwa, 1:33 P.M.**

_ Good luck then _

_ You will starve _

**San, 1:34 P.M.**

_ okay but what if I can’t open the door? _

_ my legs are screaming in pain _

**Seonghwa, 1:34 P.M.**

_ I took the key with me _

_ I’m coming, darling _

San puts his phone down, pressing it down his chest as he hears the door opening and closing, quickly followed by light footsteps. He covers his legs — he’s only wearing a shirt and underwear as he felt lazy to put on pants after showering (and honestly, he wanted to feel Seonghwa’s skin as they cuddled) — with the blanket, squinting as the boy leans over the doorframe. Hair up, wearing a basic white t-shirt and ripped jeans, looking totally like the embodiment of a 70’s high school heartthrob. 

San was into soft guys, what’s wrong with him lately?

“Good morning,” Seonghwa greets, raising one bag that makes San’s stomach groan in need of food. “Do you want me to feed you or prefer the delicious chicken first?”

San rolls his eyes, legs trembling when he finally stands up and puts his feet on the floor, back screaming in agony. Oh, shit. Maybe he got a little too reckless yesterday. “You’re an idiot,” he groans, slowly moving past him. His room is already nasty enough to eat chicken there.

The older boy happily follows him into the living room, both of them splattering on the couch, a documentary about otters playing on TV as they share spicy chicken, San’s whole body snuggling into Seonghwa’s back, too tired to even stand still. Yet, he manages to eat more than half ration by himself, trying to recover all the energy he let escape stupidly with his now embarrassing screams of last night.

“Are you feeling better?” Seonghwa asks after cleaning everything for him, San still lying on the couch, totally immersed on the documentary. 

“Hmm. Wasn’t feeling bad," he swings his feet.

“Your back,” Seonghwa wrinkle his nose, patting his legs so he makes room for him to seat, fingers running up and down his bare skin.

San shrugs. “It’s a good pain. Reminds me I didn't dream of it. How about you?”

“Feeling better than ever. Even when you drool on your sleep, you made a mess on my neck.”

San frowns, hating the fact that he was so tired due the post-orgasm state he fell asleep within seconds after showering and doesn’t remember any annoying fact about sleeping Seonghwa that he can throw at him. Putting on his hood, he decides to keep on watching how otters procreate. 

It has to pass one hour for him to give in and crawl into his lap, Seonghwa accepting him without problems, one hand moving to the back of his head where he already knows San loves to be touched. As he fell incredible fast, they couldn’t talk at all. About them. About what they are now. About Seonghwa being in love with him. About San not knowing what to do with the bottled feelings he has remained on his heart.

It seems appropriate to talk about it when Seonghwa’s hands are moving over his bare skin and they’re spending a Saturday — just that it’s Wednesday, but who cares — watching otter’s form a beautiful family.

“How is possible for you to be in love with me?” He says, Seonghwa slowly moving his head up to look at him. San refuses to move is eyes from the screen.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing weird,” San assures, taking his thumb into his mouth, biting a little. “But how do you know is _ love _ and not like. You can like me, I _ like _you.”

Seonghwa rubs a hand over his back, one cheek resting on his chest — hint: San is totally sitting on his lap by now.

“Because I observe you.”

“Creep.”

“Don’t get me wrong. We share the same friends, the same interests. Even if we had a _ bad _ relationship, I got to know you and your little, dumb oddities. Like how you pour milk before cereal (I want to punch you for that, though), how you love indie music or how your dimples appear only when you’re really happy. How you are always late, but never late to the things you love. Or how when you’re on the stage, you don’t need any spotlights because you walk around with your own light. How curious you get about things people don't care at all. How adorable you get when you’re around Hwayoung, showing the world that you’ll be a really good father in the future. How you care about your friends way more than you care about yourself. I know you hate dark chocolate and prefer smoothies over everything. And you’re a brat, but still have a big heart. I don’t know, maybe you’re right and I just like you. But I like to think I love everything that makes you, _ yourself. _”

Seonghwa’s voice gets more and more low with every word that slides through his lips, almost like he is trying to keep that to his mind only to listen, fighting internally. His eyes flutter a little, shyness taking him by the neck, face falling down. San remains silent, one hand dangerously close to move to his cheek and hold him close.

He doesn’t do it, though, words rumbling around his brain.

That’s big. He’s used to hear life’s not a piece of cake and well, feelings aren't sugar coated all the time as well. Feelings are like bindweed, rooting out of nowhere and getting tangled alongside everything that’s already there. It’s difficult to get rid of them if you don’t understand its purpose.

And right now, San doesn’t understand why Seonghwa is feeling all that for him.

But he understands that he is being sincere, that he is finally opening up to him. That there might be some clouds on his mind, not letting the light illuminate his path, but that Seonghwa’s starting to trust him. And that’s enough for him to softly kiss the top of his head and hope for the best — and for the best, he means not falling in love with him.

(He forgets about the _ what we are now _ question, but deep down, he hopes they don't need to voice that).

—

The thing is, he is already on its way to falling in love without knowing it.

It had to happen between Seonghwa’s car confession and the way he spent more than thirty minutes telling him he was going to go home while kissing him instead on the door. Going to sleep still engulfed in that weird feeling — and Seonghwa’s scent — clenching around his heart. Waking up in the morning and observing at the vibrant hickies that still remain on his skin, fingers brushing the skin with the delicacy of an artist that’s trying a brush for the first time, he allows himself to think that he will always split open like a canvas for him to paint purple flowers.

San, still, can’t remember when he and Seonghwa started talking — even if it was only to insult each other. So blurry on his memory that it feels like a joke he can remember which color Yunho’s shirt was the day of the audition but not what Seonghwa said about him. He remembers how he spilled coffee all over him, how he kind of apologised, but all their thing didn’t start until late into his first semester. Christmas. Because that’s the time he started getting interested in Yunho.

This time, though, is different. He is sure he won’t be able to forget how Seonghwa’s fingers moved and caressed every centimeter of his skin. He won’t be able to forget the past three months, actually. Everything happening like a summer storm. Suddenly, weird, maybe a little bit nostalgic, but above all, refreshing.

It hits him just three days after, when real Saturday rolls up in vintage roller skates and thigh white shorts, giving off the summer vibes he had been craving all winter, Hwayoung wanting to see the flowers bloom in the park. And of course, she wants San there — maybe Seonghwa also wants him there, but in front of the little girl, they’re still friends. Because Seonghwa is in love and San is trying to figure out why he isn’t moved by the lust but the fact sakura petals are falling on top of Seonghwa’s head like a rainfall. It’s beautiful.

And, of course, because Seonghwa never really asked him out. 

“Professor Choi,” Hwayoung, that has been on San’s arms for a while now, raising her tiny hands in the air to touch the flowers, palms his cheek now, bringing his mind where his body is. That park. On a summer-like Saturday — even when is still spring. On a date with Seonghwa. Or maybe it’s not a date, but it’s something that makes his heart race anyway.

“Hmm?” San looks at the little girl, putting on his best smile.

“Put me down, I want to make a flower crown for Hwa,” she says and San obeys, observing how she runs to the other side and starts picking some flowers.

San observes her for a while, until he is noticing the pair of eyes on him, tilting his head to find Seonghwa with even more pink petals decorating his hair, making it look like he is about to open a Spring Parade. Phone on his hands, shooting at pick at him, it makes San smile a little, hands automatically moving to brush them off. 

"Don't take pics of me," he mumbles, fingers still getting lost in the blonde hair as Seonghwa shows his the pic. "I look horrible."

"You look beautiful." 

They take a seat in an empty bench then, having a perfect view of Hwayoung — who’s now happily talking with another girl that seems to be in the search of the most beautiful flowers —, hands on their knees but legs brushing each other. San can’t contain the shake that keeps on moving his own.

“Thanks for coming today,” Seonghwa says after a while, putting his phone down to place a hand on his thigh in an attempt stopping the movement — or just because he wanted it there.

“No problem.”

“Thanks for doing it for me.”

San turns his head to face him, speaking slowly this time. “No problem.”

He means it, for the first time in his life, he is sure about something. It’s not a problem. He wants to be here as much as he wants to be lying in bed with him and doing nothing. But together. There’s not a clear answer for the question _ why Seonghwa and why now? _ But he is sure about what he wants right now. So, it’s not a big problem.

“We’re okay, right?” Seonghwa asks after what it feel like an eternity, eyes not falling from his face, and San feels his heart sink.

Yet, even when everything seems to turn gray, and his chest is sinking with the thought of what future holds, he has never been so happy to voice out these words.

“Never felt better in my life,” he smiles a little. “Don’t overthink,” he says, ironically, when that’s what he has been doing for the past days. “I _ want _you as much as you want me, so, it’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

_ I want to be okay, _ he thinks, wondering what does Seonghwa have to say when he parts his lips and displays a pair of sad eyes, being interrupted by Hwayoung’s voice. She happily jumps over his knees, placing a pink flower crown on top of her brother's head. Looking at how Seonghwa’s smile blooms, being the first time he sees him smile so genuinely, makes that feeling twirl around on his chest again, and when Hwayoung places a matching crown on his own head and Seonghwa suggest on taking a selca together, he sees it on his own eyes.

He is already falling like Alicia did, already knowing _ Wonderland _ is not as beautiful as they say.

—

What are the four symptoms that you are falling in love? (San's google history shines bright on Sunday night).

Number one, whenever you look at the person you might be catching deeper feelings than just a small crush, you see them perfect. Almost like your brain becomes a stubborn mass and refuses to point out a flaw. There isn't. Seonghwa stands flawless on Sunday morning wearing nothing more but sweatpants, an old white shirt with a hole on the shoulder and messy hair because San slept on his apartment after taking Hwayoung home. He looks amazing even with his eyes still closed as he kicks San because he is being way too loud.

Number two, you burn in desire to spend time with that person. Ridiculous time. Even if it's just to spend the whole day without exchanging more words than _ "Are we really spending the Sunday here watching a documentary about whales?" _ and _ "If you don't like it, go home," _ **and** " _ San this is my fucking apartment. _" They watch the documentary, and as San presses his cheek on the couch wearing Seonghwa's hoodie and Seonghwa does it on his lap, asking him to brush his fingers against his scalp, he realizes that he doesn't mind doing nothing if they're together. 

Number three, you forget about time and friends and family and suddenly you're up in the sky walking on sunshine. Wooyoung groans at him that he has been all weekend out, Minho cries because they were supposed to meet up to finish a project, Mingi sends him a ton of messages asking if he fucked up because lately they've been talking less and less. And it makes San a little sad, but yet again his mind drifts to Seonghwa when he sits and watches a movie with Wooyoung on Sunday night, meets Minho Monday morning and shares lunch with Mingi after that.

Number four, sex might be nice, but you start to dreaming about looking into each other's eyes and blurting _ I love you _'s in between soft kisses instead of just closing your eyes and take the dirty talk and pleasure. Tuesday night, Wooyoung is out with Yeosang, San has his forehead pressed down the mattress, body shaking with every thrust that should have been driving him crazy, with every kiss on his shoulder that should have been melting him, with every pump of his own dick that should have sent him to heaven. But he can't fucking concentrate, because he is fucked up.

And in love.

And he shouldn't. 

"Wait, wait, wait—" he pants, fingers clenching around the sheets. "I got a cramp, I got a cramp, fuck."

He perfectly fakes the pain, hands flying to his left leg as Seonghwa pulls out without complaining and softly turns him around. San curls around himself, closing his eyes, waiting for his heart to slow down into a normal pace, air having difficulties to flow throughout his body.

"You okay?" Seonghwa whispers, one hand on his sweaty hair. San nods, not brave enough to open his mouth because he knows if he starts talking, he will break apart. And maybe, fuck things up. "Guess we're done for today," Seonghwa runs a thumb through his cheek before standing up. "I'm gonna clean myself. Stay here, I'll bring something for you."

San nods again, only opening his eyes when he listens the shower running in the distance. And he does it for a second, tears blurring his vision then. How in the world did he catch feelings for the _ Park Seonghwa? _ Not lame ass desire of sucking his dick but big ass wanting to hold his hand and introduce him to his mother as his _ boyfriend _feelings.

Fuck this shit.

_ Seonghwa is fucking graduating in two weeks. _

There's only a week before the play is premiering. A little more until Seonghwa is vanishing forever. He might be in love, might've confessed, but they didn't talk. They're nothing established. They're just spending time together, and kissing when no one sees them, fucking against the walls, hand covering his mouth so Mingi won't hear, because Park Seonghwa is _ fucking selfish _ and wants to take a good memory with him.

_ Well, fuck you, what about me? _

It's stupid. If they had stayed like before, just tolerating each other's existences, San wouldn't be crying after sex. If they had only stayed hating each other's guts, if stupid Seonghwa just accepted dating Wooyoung, then San wouldn't be breaking in half because he _ doesn't want him to go. _

If only he had realised sooner. 

It's really fucking stupid. Like that time he watched _ Titanic _with Jongho. He knew Jack died, and he knew they didn't end up together, still he couldn't stop crying when the inevitable happened and the ship sank and with him the love between them. And that's it. Even when he knew beforehand they won't have a future together, he can't help but cry his eyes out when he is the one sinking in gelid water.

"Hey, what happens?" He curses internally, not hearing Seonghwa coming back. Now with both hands on his skin, San just wants to kick him off his bed and kindly ask him to fuck off his life before he is begging him to stay. Because he won't beg. "San, does it hurt so badly?"

Oh, God. How it hurts when life's nothing but a bitch sometimes. 

"Please, leave me alone," he manages to say, hands all over his face so Seonghwa doesn't see him cry — or alternatively, he doesn't see Seonghwa's face and gets soft again.

"No. Tell me what happens first."

"I want to be alone, please."

"I _ won't go _ until you tell me what happened—"

"But you _ will fucking go _," San can't hold it anymore, cutting him, arms falling off his face. And the first thing he sees on Seonghwa's face, is confusion. When he speaks again, he feels how his voice dies on his throat. "You will. Soon. And you will leave me here just after making me fall for you."

In front of him, it just takes a seconds to hit Seonghwa, boy parting his lips in retaliation. San doesn't let him speak.

"I _hate_ you, for making me love you. And I _hate _myself the most for thinking, for a fucking tiny moment, that this would end well. We're not okay, Seonghwa. We can pretend all we want but you're in love with me, I am in love with you. And we can't be together."

Tears are hot, running through his even hotter skin, yet he feels cold, turning his head without waiting for an answer and putting on his hoodie. His heart doesn't feel much better now.

"San, wait a moment," the older catches him by the wrist when he decides his own room is way too suffocating and that if Seonghwa won't leave, _ he will. _

"Let go of me."

"Listen to me first, ok—"

"Let go!" He yanks his hand off, legs shaking when he turns away. His head is a mess, words are hitting each other, forming sentences that make no sense, moving his tongue alone. Because the pressure is too high now. "What's the point of keeping this? Is the sex? That's what you want?"

Seonghwa's head move a little, eyes sparkly as he mouths a _ no _, hands trying to reach out for him. But San moves back.

"You wanted to play with my heart, then?" 

"San, you don't understand _ shit _, but please, the least I wanted was hurting you. I was just, I was just trying to—"

"Protect yourself?"

"Well, yeah."

"Of what?" San takes both his hands to his chest. "Me?" He snorts, sadness mixing with incredulity in his tongue, speaking like he is just voicing up a messed up poem about a toxic relationship. Neither they have a relationship, neither they're toxic. They're just dumb. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for you to come to me and try to be friends with me. I was okay, I really was okay before all this," his hands shake, because he knows how sharp his words out, Seonghwa pressing his lips together, knuckles almost white for the tighten of his own grip. "This was just you, trying to please yourself. Because when you're gone, and having a happy life in Jinju, fucking whoever pretty boy you meet there, you will have a great memory of me. But I'll be here, remembering how you made me feel like I'm on top of the fucking world, just to leave. Because I also know _ you _, and I know you're a coward. And I know you have no intentions of even calling me back," he takes a deep breath, tears starting to flow again. "Because you're scared of loving me the way I deserve to be loved. You've always been." 

They stand there for a second, and even when it breaks San's heart how Seonghwa takes both hands to his face to hide his own tears, he holds him back. 

He refuses to keep on falling, so he walks away of his own apartment. 

And he regrets that night on the car. He shouldn't have said a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh gosh I'm still embarrased  
I know I promised angst was over but,,,,,,,, feelings can be hard sometimes, and being skin to skin with someone can make you go crazy if things are not talked. But this will have the happiest end ever so just wait for the last chapter than I will try to get done as soon as posible so you don't suffer a lot!
> 
> Come talk to me if you want ([twitter](https://twitter.com/bubblesani))  
And if you want to support my work, I'd be so happy to get a [coffee](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/bubblesani) <3


	11. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just like this, we reach the end <3

_ Three years ago _

It’s cold, December’s breeze eating the skin of his cheeks, sky covered in clouds. Not the ideal day San has been waiting for weeks, since his teachers told them they would be visiting some universities, starting for the one San has been waiting to apply for years. They are all bundled up, unable to see a lot because of students taking their exams at the moment, two guys on his first year showing them around.

San doesn’t really pay much attention at what they are saying (for some reason, just one of them is talking meanwhile the other is just walking around with a resting bitch face) until they are reaching the end of the pre-orientation. It was boring than he thought, but he likes the campus. He can already picture himself lying on the grass and sunbathing, or just moving around like any other college student. It's exciting. 

One of the boys guiding them, the tiny man talking, stands in front of the library, both hands over his chest, a lot of posters on his back.

“This is the end, I hope I could help you. Do you have any questions?” Everyone remains silent, making the boy give them a shy smile, eyes fast searching for his friend. "Great. We are glad you came. Now, my friend Seonghwa will take you to the cafeteria."

That makes everyone scream in joy, even San, craving a coffee for hours since they had to wake up early. The boy (Seonghwa) grimaces at his friend, almost like wanting to rip his head off. Yet, he obeys, taking everyone with him.

Once they reach the cafeteria, San moves from his group of friends to tug into his sleeve. The boy raises an eyebrow, confused. 

"Yeah?"

"Hmm. Sorry. I've heard there's a theatre club in this university," he says, hands on his back, fingers moving nervously. "This is my first option because I really like theatre, but your friend didn't talk about clubs. So I was wondering if it is still open."

The boy blinks, not saying nothing for a second, just to smile for the first time in the morning. 

"Yeah, it is open. I am a member, and Hongjoong too," he takes a hand to his chest, pointing at his tiny friend sitting on one of the chairs then.

"Really? And how it is? It is funny?" 

Seonghwa remains silent again, moving a little so the rain doesn't reaches his shoes meanwhile San doesn't seem to care. He observes how the boy seems to think about it for a lot, wondering if that club wasn't as funny as he thought it would be. But then…

"It is," Seonghwa smiles. "Perfect place to laugh and breathe after a long tiring day. You'll make a lot of friends, and it's going to be super fun. If you join, of course."

"I'm joining!" San exclaims, raising a hand, finally feeling his heart beating with happiness again. "Next year I'm gonna come here and have lots of fun!"

"Cool," Seonghwa then high fives him, standing there for a few seconds until Hongjoong is calling everyone to take a group pic. "I'll be waiting for your acting."

"You'll see," San smiles brightly. "I'm the best at both having fun and acting."

—

Right now, laying in bed, listening to the calming sound of the sea, that distant memory of a boy vanishes from San's brain. Like the sand on top of a dune, moving slowly, making him disappear without leaving a trace. San doesn't remember, or most like he wasn't paying real attention, when he innocently walked into that boy's direction and asked about the theatre club.

Like the butterfly effect he once heard from his mother, he wasn't conscious of how much that would change his life. How he would end up painfully curled around a thought. 

A thought of the same boy he faced years ago.

"Hey," he barely hears the knock on his door, Wooyoung taking a seat at the end of the bed. Staring at him. "Can we talk?"

San doesn't move, still curled with his knees pressed tight into his chest, documental playing on the laptop screen. He has been on bed for a while now.

"San?" Wooyoung insists, holding one of his feet. No reaction of his body. His friend sighs, lying next to him.

"Do you know about the 52 hertz whale, Woo?" He says, in the lowest voice ever, making his own body shake a little by how dripping in sadness it is.

"What does that even mean?"

San's eyes are fixed on the screen, where the ocean waves keep moving at the sound of the man's voice. Body heavy, sinking on the mattress, engulfing him, taking his breath away. Chest on fire, for days, licking all the injuries he has, making it worse. Crying without a reason. Stupidly. Starting the cycle once again before he can reach the sweet numbness.

He knows how stupid the situation is. He knows this is nothing compared to real problems awaiting him just a few years in the future. He is nothing more but a child that's scared of the dark. 

"There's this whale which species is unknown, calling at a frequency of 52 hertz," he mumbles, repeating the same words the man said earlier. He has watched the documental way too many times in just a weekend he already memorized it. At least, the calming sound of the ocean is able of making him sleep at night. "It's quite unusual, because blue whales call at frequencies of 10 to 40 hertzs, and fin whales do it at 20 hertzs. This whale appears to be the only individual being able to emit a whale call that's 52 hertzs. Do you know what that means? Other whales can't hear it. They say this whale is the world's loneliest whale. Isn't that quite sad? To not being able to talk with anyone?" San finally moves his eyes from the screen, finding Wooyoung's own, fixed on him. Even when tears start blurring his vision just a few seconds after and his image gets distorted. "It is," he is the one admitting it after a few seconds, lump on his throat. Hurting. "It is. I know it because one month ago, after Yunho's party, nobody could hear my call. I was alone, with a lot of things to say. But no one would come to my call."

"San—" Wooyoung moves a little, hand in the air, voice sounding like the saddest call he had ever heard. Sadder than the own voice piercing his brain for days.

"But then," San interrupts him, sniffling. "But then Seonghwa came. I didn't expect him, out of all the people, to be the one being able to hear me. Isn't it ironic? I've been hating him for almost three years, or that's what I thought. That's what I thought…"

Without saying a word, listening how his voice fades, Wooyoung moves from his initial position to wrap his arms around him, bringing his bodies close. Pressing his forehead over one of his blades, one arm around his waist. Taking a deep breath. 

"I feel like it's been centuries since Hongjoong announced the roles for the play," Wooyoung breathes, voice muffled by San's own body. He can't help but shrink more. "A lot happened, huh? I'm sure if I tell someone, they wouldn't even believe me. It's hilarious," Wooyoung allows himself to laugh, but San can feel how fake it sounds. The sadness invading everything. "The play premieres in four days and look at the mess we've done. The mess we've become. You're not coming out of your room, you're not eating, you're not living. And all that because you've been in love with Seonghwa, all this time."

San presses his lips in a thin line.

"Don't interrupt me," Wooyoung says. "You're in love with Seonghwa, and first of all, let me tell you that you own us a full course meal because two years ago you said, and allow me to quote yourself,  _ if I end up kissing the floor he steps in, I'm gonna spend all the money I have in my bank account and invite you to the best meal ever.  _ So I hope you have a lot of money, because you not only fucked Seonghwa, you also fell for him, and I crave lobster."

San can't help the giggles escaping his lips, a little covered in a cold dust, but perfectly matching with Wooyoung's own. He closes his eyes, allowing his friend to carefully flip his body over, back meeting the mattress, one of Wooyoung's hands all over his forehead, brushing his hair. 

"It's okay, Sani. This is your life, you can fall in love with whoever you want. If you spend all your life retraining yourself just to not hurt others, you're going to end up hurting someone you should treat with care," as he opens his eyes to find Wooyoung's broken expression, he also finds a fingers pressed to his chest, "and that's you."

San shakes his head, gulping. "I'm not— I'm not retraining myself. For the first time in my life, I really wanted to step forward without caring about what others say. But he— He doesn't want, Wooyoung. He doesn't," he shakes his head again, tears kissing his cheeks for the third time just this day — being only 4 P.M.

"He told me. He told me that he can't date me because the only thing on his head is  _ you, _ " Wooyoung puts on a sad smile. "I've seen you two together the past days, after the bonding camp. And let me tell you that I've seen a lot,  _ a fucking lot _ , of Seonghwa during the past months. But never saw him the way he is when he is with you."

San takes a grip of his sweater, crying taking all over his voice. 

"Seonghwa is going to Jinju in two weeks. He doesn't want me to stay with him, he is selfish. And maybe I am too, because I don't want to be the world's loneliest whale again. I really don't."

"There's always a reason for everything, Sani," Wooyoung moves to press his lips on his forehead, giving it up to San's crying and just taking his body into his arms for as long as he needs it, humming a lullaby for his heart to stop crying. "You don't really know how to face things, and that's not your fault. Seonghwa doesn't know how to manage his emotions, and that's not his fault either." 

For what it seems hours, they stay like that. Bodies fused in one. Hearts beating at the same time, Wooyoung finally being there for him, finally hearing the long awaited call and kissing all his sadness away. Until San's tears are dry over his skin and he is forced to take a bath.

Wooyoung is right.

A lot of things happened, in just the spawn of three months. Three months that seemed easier than they actually ended up being. Three months that made San learn a lot of things.

Real friendships are stronger than one thinks, and love has always a card hidden under the sleeve. Misunderstandings and negativity being pulled under the table and almost giving the game up. But friendships never break. Looking at Wooyoung through his lashes as he washes his hair, San realizes how little he valued everything they went through together. How many stories they're going to have to remember on drunk nights. How happy he found his heart inside that small apartment in the centre of the city, sitting on an old couch and playing video games. How home is not a place, but a person.

Love is not always as easy and beautiful as people writing stories and painting pictures claim to be. Love is complicated, Love likes to play around with hearts. Love blinds you with the wrong people, making it impossible to see the right path. But at the same time, Love can also be happiness. And a safe place to run at the end of the day. San doesn't regret falling in love with Yunho, even when it wasn't real. He decides to feel it real, thanking him for opening his arms for him when he most needed it, for making his life a little brighter. Because love stories are not always coloured in pink, and love stories sometimes don't end well. But Yunho made of his own love story a place where San could forget about everything making him sad. A place where Yunho could also be happy. 

Being alone is not the same as being lonely. With no one you can talk. One mistake that leaves you not only alone in a crowd, but also takes away all the trust. All the warm eyes and hands. Drowning in an ocean of silence could make everyone go crazy. Everyone makes mistakes. But, soon or later, the waters get clear and calm, and you realize if you just reached a hand out, there would have been someone there to catch it. Maybe not to agree with your actions, but to try to help you. Yeosang. Mingi. Jongho. Hongjoong. After the storm, they still where there, with him — because once again, friendship is always the strongest force in this world.

Life is ephemeral, and time moves fast. Every second needs to be valued, every moment needs to be enjoyed like if it was part of a party. Because at the end of the day, we can't go back to what already happened. We can't change a set of words. We can't rewind that same moment we love like a song on YouTube. Life moves forward, and in a blink of an eye, everything is starting and ending at the same time. And Seonghwa is graduating meanwhile he spends the days on bed.

It's never too late to say sorry. Never too late if it is sincere. 

"I'm sorry," San breathes, facing the floor of his room, water droplets falling directly from his hair to slam into the tiles. "For everything, Woo."

"You don't have to apologise," the boy sighs, sitting cross-legged on his bed, one again giving him a small smile. "Not to me." 

San gives it back, one hand over Wooyoung's. 

"Do you think love can change a person?"

Wooyoung takes a deep breath, gaze falling over his hands. It takes him a while to answer, almost like he is fighting with his own thoughts.

"I think love makes us the stupidest creatures in the world," he says, then he giggles. "Or maybe we just don't know how to manage all the feelings. Maybe we become selfish, and maybe we aren't able to see clearly at first. But," he stops, biting his lower lip for a second, "but when Seonghwa told me about you, a very small part of me felt relieved. Because maybe I was just trying to label our relationship. Or maybe I just hated the fact of losing him, so I wanted to make him mine, whatever it took. I know I love him and I know that even when he hurt me, ten years in the future, I'd stupidly give my all to him. Because that's how love works, sometimes. I know you would do it too."

San hates the way he portraits himself running into his arms even after all he went through. And that's the reason he has been avoiding getting out. To not find Seonghwa. To not fall again.

Yet, right now, after the whole weekend in bed and that revelatory bath, he is not so sure of what he wants.

"What about Yunho?" He asks in a whisper.

Wooyoung sighs, crossing his arms, back meeting the wall.

"Yunho," he starts, and San doesn't miss the way the edges of his mouth move upwards, just a little, giving his face a little light. "Yunho is not like us. He has love grabbed by the neck, he knows how to speak by himself. The night of his birthday, when he found me in the rooftop crying, he confessed. Hilarious," Wooyoung laughs. "Right away. He told me he loved me, and that he didn't care about how many time would he need to wait, he would still love me. And he has been telling me that since that day, that he  _ loves  _ me. And, you know, San, I don't have an answer to that. But he said he knows. He just wanted me to know as well, that even when everything seems dark, there's someone out there who loves you. A friend, a familiar, or just a lover. That's the thing, we are loved. We're just taking others for granted, thinking they know already, they don't need to hear it. That's wrong. And I love you, San. I'm sorry for thinking you knew it."

San moves over the mattress, arms again around his neck.

"I love you too, Woo."

—

On Monday, just three days before the premier of the play, San decides to search up for Seonghwa. He doesn't know what out of all the things happening at the same time on his head during Sunday made him gather all that courage.

The time passing or how love makes them all a mess. 

But he decides he also wants to take love by its neck — or better, punch life in the throat. That if he wants things to happen, he needs to move forward. He needs to find him.

Yet, he can't. 

And in the end, sitting in one of the benches outside the library, Seonghwa is the one finding him. Always him. Hearing his call once again.

"Found Wooyoung in the cafeteria," Seonghwa says, beanie covering his hair even when they're almost reaching the end of May. He isn't looking at him, gaze on the front — a little fountain that keeps the silence away with its bubble —, but same dark circles under his eyes no makeup can cover. Piece of paper on his hand, barely touching his thigh. San frowns, noticing just then how he took a sit next to him. Noticing he is just right  _ here. _ "He told me you were searching for me, and he also called me an asshole so I guess it is important."

San doesn't say a thing, more focused on the white paper on his hand than the words leaving his mouth. He can see his name written there, in Seonghwa's messy but still beautiful handwriting, next to a date.  _ January 16th, 2017. _

"But I also was searching for you," he finally moves, eyes falling on San's face. Sad eyes. "You asked me why, and here it is. My why, for everything, San." 

He then places the paper on his legs, yet San is not able to even pick it. His mind a mess, his heart messier. Beating so hard he is sure Seonghwa can hear. Dry throat, sweaty hands, the only thing he finds when he turns the paper, is a picture. A group picture. 

San immediately recognizes the people he went to high school with, finding himself at one of the edges, gaze on the sky instead of the pic. It was cloudy, maybe even rainy. They're standing in front of the same library that lays behind them right now, and in the middle, wearing horribly flamboyant orange jackets, there's two boys.

Hongjoong. And next to him, Seonghwa. 

That face starts showing on his mind again, sand coming all the way back. Younger, both of them.

"This is from when my school came for pre-orientation," San mumbles, thumb running over his own body, then looking down at past Seonghwa. "You were there."

Seonghwa was there, from the beginning.

"I was. I remember how on a Friday, Joong called me to help him with the kids. ' _ What kids? _ ' I asked him, and he told me seniors from high school were coming for pre-orientation. It was cloudy and I was too lazy to go out of bed, but he convinced me in some way because he has never been good with teens. So I went there, we showed them around, and then asked for questions. No one had any, so I we just left for coffee," Seonghwa explains, gaze low. Slowly, that day is painting on San's mind again. "And then, a kid in the most horrible blue sweater and engulfed in both a beanie and a scarf came to me and asked me if the campus had a theatre company. I said yes, that I was part of it, and then he asked me if it was fun. Such a simple question, but it made me wonder a lot. I've always thought theatre needed to be serious, professional, all those things Joong used to say. And in just a moment, a kid that was more focussed on the rain than in me, made me realize it wasn't as funny as it should. But you know what? I lied. I told him it was the perfect place to laugh, and spend a good time. He told me he would try, because he was the best at both, acting and having fun," Seonghwa allows himself a little moment to laugh, taking one hand to cover his mouth. San stopped looking at the picture long ago to face him, observing him. Attentively. "The next year, that kid got on the scenery and made a serious but perfect access test. But as soon as he landed on the floor, running to his friends, he started to joke around and doing a victory dance. I knew then that was the fun he talked about. Days later the same kid spilled my coffee all over my shirt, don't remembering me at all. When he was in my mind for months. You don't know how mad I was, and how in love, of the little ray of sunshine that decided to break through the clouds."

San moves on the bench, hands already over Seonghwa's legs, yet words don't listen to his heart. Don't leave his throat, making him look like an idiot with his mouth open and glassy eyes. Next to him, Seonghwa smiles with the equal pair of glassy eyes.

"You can't imagine how much fun and sun you brought into the club, San. You and Wooyoung, and Yunho, and Mingi, and Yeosang. All your little jokes, and your laughs filling the place each day. Everything changed with you, and I am so glad I decided to get out of bed that day, that you are here today."

"Why did you hate me?" San finally asks, hands closing on fists, pic falling into Seonghwa's lap.

"I did not."

"The past years. Why? Why did you treat me that way?"

"San, do you have any sad memory of the club?" Seonghwa asks instead, making him stop thinking for a minute, going back three years in the past. "Do you ever felt it wasn't funny?" 

Theatre is for San a place where he can be himself. Where he doesn't need to be shy and where his chest is always filled with happiness. The place where he met precious friends, and the place where a lot of good memories were made. A lot of laughs, a lot of pizza, a lot of dances and a lot of pics he has on his wall. 

Even when he  _ hated  _ Seonghwa, that was one of the reasons that made the club entertaining. Going everyday to fight him, over the silliest things, the whole place bursting into laugh, Yeosang calling him cute when he pouted. 

They are family. 

"I love you, San," Seonghwa says. "I just wanted you to have fun with your friends. And maybe I didn't want you to know I was head over heels you."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to protect that sun. Love, and relationships, all that, ends up breaking everything. When I was a kid, Joong, me and other three kids had a tree house," he breathes, feet moving on the ground, drawing patterns over the dirt. "We used to go there and play with cardboard swords. When we turned thirteen, two of them started dating, and that didn't change a thing but when they broke up, things did change. We stopped hanging, and playing with swords. Joong became the grumpy grandpa you know, and my innocent bliss disappeared just like summer does on the last day before going back to school. This time, I did it for you. You wanted it to be fun."

"But you fucked Wooyoung."

"I know."

"And in the end, the past three months ended up being hell. So tell me the real why. The reason you don't even want to be with me when you love me, and I  _ love  _ you." 

Seonghwa sighs, finally moving to hold San's face between his hands. Squishing his cheeks, closing his eyes and bringing their faces closer. Foreheads resting over each other. Seonghwa's breath tickling his lips with a soft scent of mint and coffee. Making his heart tremble and his skin spark a little.

"I was trying to protect me. I'm sorry. Because thanks to you, I found a reason to wake up in the morning. But I can't always depend of you, San, I can't use you. Even if I didn't mean to hurt you, I know I did. You deserve better than me. You deserve someone like Yunho, someone who will love you like you deserve to be loved. No more fights, no more bickering, just sunshine and cuddles. I never imagined this could end like this. I was just trying to give you the fun days you deserved."

"Yunho is in love with Wooyoung," San retorts, trying to make his voice sound stronger, yet he already has his hands on his hair, softly threading his fingers there. "And unfortunately for both of us, I am in love with you. It took me a lot to realize, but I don't want sunshine and cuddles, I want to feel my heart racing inside my chest because being with you is like riding a rollercoaster. I want to fight because I am  _ way _ better than you, and because once you're gone I'm gonna be KQ's star. But I also want you to kiss me rough and laugh on my mouth and have sex on your car even if you don't want. I want to take a train to Jinju and eat takeaway in your new apartment, engulfed in one of your hoodies because I am way too stubborn to bring my own clothes. I want to smell like you, and I want to wash your hair. I also want to cuddle, I'm not gonna deny it. What I'm trying to say, Seonghwa, is that I'm willing to have that life with you. You won't be using me, and if you do, then I'll be using you. Because love doesn't save anyone, but I do believe that you saved me, in some sort of way. And I'm sorry for everything I said, I'm really so—" 

Seonghwa doesn't let him finish, closing the small gap between them and finally kissing him. Feeling like it's been years since they kissed, feeling like the sun is breaking through the cloud and shining brightly on top of their heads.

—

It feels like confessing twice but receiving the same reply, and that's how Seonghwa smiles into the kiss. But it's also how they hug for hours after deciding to skip classes and also rehearsal, receiving a lot of angry messages from Hongjoong. And how Seonghwa ends up crying, and so does San. And for a reason they end up sitting in bed, crying together while the night falls at the other side of the window.

They ignore it. Everything. Staying in silence, making it up for all the times they opened their mouths without thinking first. Hurting each other.

"Hongjoong is killing us," Seonghwa mumbles into San's hair after hours, one hand rubbing his back as the other is tightly wrapped around San's, laying in bed, a song sounding softly from Seonghwa's phone.

"It's okay. I'm not doing the play anymore," San confesses. 

"What are you saying, dumbass?"

"You heard. I quit. This play was a stupid excuse for me to confess to Yunho. Silly, right?" He laughs, cheek pressed into Seonghwa's chest, hearing the calming sound of his heart above the music, almost sending him into dreamland. "I don't need it now. And it also made me learn that I should start facing my problems right away. I think there's someone who needs this play more than me."

"Who?"

San laughs again. "Yunho. He knows how to do things right, but he fell for an idiot. I want Yun to have his own happy ending." 

"You're asking me to quit too maybe?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"That easy?"

Seonghwa shrugs. "This play is like the titanic of my acting career. You can't imagine how many times I drowned in cold water. I'm tired. And I won't kiss Wooyoung."

"Funny thing to say after sucking his dick."

"Now, sir, I won't kiss you neither."

San snorts, hitting him on one side. "Funny thing to say after sucking my dick."

They end up laughing, rolling a little over the mattress, exchanging positions, being Seonghwa the one resting over San's chest now. Looking at him through his lashes. 

"Will this be okay? For real this time."

"Why are you so scared?" San asks instead, thumb brushing his cheek.

"Life's not always kind. And one year from now, maybe we—"

"Life's also short, Hwa," San says, sitting on bed, making the older boy follow him. "Just look at this. I met you at seventeen but it took me so damn much realize things. And, honestly, I'm so tired of this feeling on my chest. Like I am about to die, that everything hurts. I want to do whatever I want, without thinking in the future. If life has pain awaiting for me, then watch me have the most fun in years until that moment comes."

Seonghwa doesn't answer with words, but he nods in the dark and links their pinkies. Tightly. San smiles softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek, not letting go of that silent promise. 

_ Let's make it funny.  _

—

One day before the premiere of the play, San stands up in the stage to word out something he never thought he would say.

"I quit."

Everyone on the room stops talking, every single murmur vanishing as fast as the summer breeze on the last days of September. All eyes on him. Hongjoong's, incredulous. Wooyoung's, surprised. Seonghwa's, giving him the support he needs as his hands shake behind his back.

He never felt so vulnerable on the stage, not even when he had to kiss Seonghwa in front of everyone. Even now, when all his worries are vanishing, feeling his heart beat again. 

"Excuse me?" Is Hongjoong the one talking first, standing from his seat to walk to the stage. Is funny how he is fast in show a tic on the eye, hands moving awkwardly in front of him. "What are you saying, San?"

"I quit," he repeats, filling his lungs with hot air. "Wooyoung will do my character. He has been practicing a lot lately."

Wooyoung rolls his eyes on his seat. Next to him, Yeosang can't help but show a smug smile, leaning back in the chair, almost like he is plotting something. Totally contrary to Yunho, eyes searching for Seonghwa. 

"Listen, San," Hongjoong breathes in, closing his eyes. "The play premieres tomorrow.  _ Tomorrow.  _ We've been working so hard for the past three months, I thought everything was alright after the camp. What the hell is happening?" He remarks the  _ hell _ , making San munch his words before actually saying them.

Hongjoong waits, shaking on the spot, for the answer. And San, San searches for Seonghwa. Sitting aside from the rest, trying to hide the smile that has taken his face hostage. He winks at him.  _ Idiot. _

"I wanted to use this play to confess to Yunho," he admits, eyes finding Yunho. Warm. "But I already did it, so I don't think I need it anymore."

There's a loud chatter filling the room in quite few seconds, yet San doesn't care. Not anymore. He has been worrying almost his whole life, and if he has to be honest, it's starting to drain all the energy left on his body. Always worrying. What's the matter. He is drowning and he is tired of it.

Hongjoong is moving then, fingers wrapping around his wrist as he pulls him aside from the rest.

"San, don't make me mad. I'm stressed enough I don't need your stupid shit now."

San sighs, resting his back into the wall. As bad as his memory is, he still remembers it. His hidden card. The one he has been saving to use on the right moment, against Seonghwa, but there's nothing he wants to pull against him now. Still, he can use it. "I want to use the Golden Card, Hongjoong."

"Excuse me?" Hongjoong doesn't stutter, not quite understanding what he means until he is following San's gaze, landing on Mingi. San promised to not say a thing about them. "I can't believe you."

The boy clicks his tongue, covering his face with both hands, for a second looking decided to tell them all about his relationship with Mingi, including what he  _ likes _ , just to prevent San from quitting. But he doesn't, turning around on his heels and walking again to the stage. Everyone goes silent, puppy eyes appearing everywhere, waiting for the announcement. 

"Wooyoung, you're the new Noah," Hongjoong announces. 

Once again, murmurs fill the room. They all can hear Wooyoung's sarcastic  _ "great" _ as he scratches the back of his head. He searches for San, and then San looks for Seonghwa. Boy biting down his lower lip, standing up.

San is conscious of how Hongjoong's expression changes at the sight of the boy standing.

"I quit too."

"Oh, c'mon!" Hongjoong shrinks like the Titanic did, and San can't help but laugh to himself remembering Seonghwa's words floating on the darkness of his room. "Don't you dare laugh, Choi San! For real, what happens with you two? I thought you were finally getting better, finally making my life easier."

Mingi has to stand from his seat, hands waving in the air when he reaches the tiny man's direction, not knowing what to do. 

Yet, it's Seonghwa the one speaking.

"I'm in love. I'm in love with San," he announces so softly for a moment everyone remains silent, as if nothing happened. Eyes on the boy, now standing, until Yeosang is laughing. So hard everyone leaves Seonghwa to look at him, hands on his tummy, throwing his head back. 

San frowns. 

"This is incredible, oh my god," his giggles are enough to make Wooyoung follow him, and soon Yunho is laughing too, and Jongho, and even Seonghwa. So contagious they all forgot what they're doing there and just laugh. After those three months. Feels like breathing again. "This is the best day of my life."

"Why are you crying now, dude?" Wooyoung laughs, Yeosang taking his hand to his wet eyes.

"Oh, damn," he cries and laugh at the same time. "I'm just so happy. Finally. You don't how much I suffered, Hwa, saving up your secret."

Yeosang's words float around until they reach San, remembering every time Yeosang just leaned in and told him  _ I know everyone's secrets. Seonghwa's too. _ And he didn't want to know it, because a part of his being, deep down, didn't want to get hurt.

In the end, his secret was just that. 

Being in love.

He can't help but laugh a little as Seonghwa nags at Yeosang, and how Hongjoong decides to just lay down on the floor and let everyone start rambling around, feeling defeated. He enjoys the bubbles of happiness that invade him. 

And after that, he hugs Yeosang. And Mingi. Yunho, Jongho, and even Hongjoong. Thanking them for always laugh like that, for becoming a family. 

—

If someone had told him three months ago that things would be so different once the last week of May arrived and the Summer Festival started, San would have laughed so hard he would have ended up coughing. 

Three months ago, San wouldn't have imagined himself not shining in the middle of the stage, the place where he belongs, holding Yunho close to him, finally letting the words out of his throat in the form of that cheesy song he picked to confess. And right now, sitting on the front row, fingers slowly playing with Seonghwa's hand, observing how Wooyoung is the one shining on his place and holding Yunho close, he feels happy.

Calm.

Never felt so calm in his life, knowing perfectly that everything passed like a storm and that the sun is finally rising again and  _ everything is fine. _ Finally. 

He is the one that claps the loudest, even when he couldn't participate in the play in the end. No. He just decided to not do it. Seonghwa's words coming up again, after what it seems years ago, both of them standing in front of each other in the dressing room. In silence, hearts beating at the same time, but not quite like the way they're doing now. It was rushed, and hard, and filled with impotence. It was like wanting to punch a wall and scream from the top of his lungs.

It was promising himself to never,  _ never, _ lose against Seonghwa.

In the end, he did it. Three months were enough, Seonghwa. Enough for him to give up. 

And he never thought surrendering to him would have been what brought peace into his life. 

—

They all have dinner together once the play ends, and taking his fifth glass of wine Hongjoong starts mumbling how mad he is his two stars decided to quit on his best play. But also, how happy he is everything ended up well. 

Mingi is the one screaming they should toast, and soon the room is filling with the jingle of glasses.

Coming home, Wooyoung tells him he needs to have a long talk with Yunho, so he is going first. San hugs him before letting him go, and seeing how Yunho looks at Wooyoung as they awkwardly try to hold hands has his heart beating fast again, smile blooming on his lips. 

"Would you mind if I walk you home, Sir?" Seonghwa appears behind him. 

"What about Hongjoong? Thought you were taking him home because, well, he can't even walk by his own."

Seonghwa giggles. "He is such a dumbass. Mingi is taking care of him. Hongjoong is also graduating this year, you know," his voice fills the night like velvet, falling like the curtain after a play in front of his eyes. The end of a stage. "It's going to be hard for him too. Mingi's like a baby."

"I know," San presses his lips tight, trying to be loyal to his own words. Enjoy the moment at fully, not look into pain's eyes. Shaking his head, he reaches out a hand for Seonghwa to hold. "Okay, walk me home."

Seonghwa's response comes in the form of a smirk and fingers intertwining tightly, taking his hand to his lips, leaving a sweet kiss on the back of his hand that has San laughingly sighing like Sandy in Summer Nights.

They walk in silence, hands swinging, Seonghwa's thumb circling over his skin, the sky shining with thousand of stars. The breeze is not as cold as before, and for a moment, San feels like he is inside a dream. That he will soon wake up and find his legs tangled in warm sheets and snow will be falling at the other side of the window. December will kiss his cheeks again and nothing of this would have ever happened. 

And inside the dream, he is safe.

"Date me," the words slip through his lips like honey dripping from a hive, making Seonghwa stop walking to cough a little. "Date me, Hwa."

"Hmm," the boy bites his lip, cheeks filled with color. "You're gonna laugh, but I thought we were, hmmm,  _ dating  _ already."

San parts his lips in a perfect "O", no sound at all meeting the nightfall. 

"Now I see I didn't ask you properly, though."

"Well, thank God I am the brave one here."

Seonghwa smiles, not doubting into putting him in a tight hug. San's hands meet on his back, cheek pressed to his chest, Seonghwa's chin on top of his head. There's a cricket making a melody somewhere, and it's funny how that becomes they're own BSO of the moment. 

"You've always been a fighter," Seonghwa breathes, kissing the top of his head. "I like that of you."

San just nods, finally moving back to look at him in the eye.

"I'm sorry if I ever broke your heart."

"I'm sorry for doing it," Seonghwa replies, moving his hands from his hips to cup his face, bringing him close. Kissing him like it is the first time they stand in front of each other, being total strangers, starting where they should have started. 

A sweet kiss under the stars.

Yet San doesn't hates the path he took, all what he had been through. Because Seonghwa was there, and slowly, he learnt he wasn't as alone as he always thought. 

"Come with me to Jinju," Seonghwa mumbles into his lips. 

"What?"

"For the summer. Come with me."

"Isn't a little early to live together?"

"You said you wanted to live your life at fully and enjoy the moment, but I know deep down you're still worried. I want you to know I'm serious with you." 

San can't help but smile, wrapping his arms around his neck and staring at him.

"And three months will be enough, right?"

Seonghwa kisses him one last time.

"One will be more than enough."

And just like that he gets it.

San  _ loves _ Seonghwa. 

—

**youngblood (n.)**

a newcomer. 

this time, to love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, I don't have words. I've been writing this story for 8 months already. Hmm, that's a lie, but it took me 8 months to finally finish it, and I'm so glad I decided to write this. I'm glad everyone found it interesting and found love for sanhwa. Everyone that read and left means a lot to me now, you were the ones motivating me when I thought of just not finishing this. And here we are.  
I hope the end was up your expectations, and if it didn't, well, it is okay! That's the ending I had in mind since the beggining (note how the fic starts with the sentence: San hates Seonghwa. So :D).  
I had so much fun writing this and I know there's some plot holes and erros I will correct in the future, I maybe end up adding an extra chapter of they're life together. But for now, youngblood is over, and I think not only San learnt things, we all did.  
Once again, thank you so much for being here for me.  
We will see each other again <3  
with so much love, blai!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/bubblesani) || [coffee](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/bubblesani)


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